London
by Lovely SOS
Summary: Ian Kabra and Amy Cahill's lives have collided. What started as two strangers on a coach class plane ride to London has resulted in Ian and Amy being brought together by more than one mysterious bond. But Amy has duties, and Ian is extremely guarded, making trust a hard thing for them to find in each other. There is more at stake than they ever thought possible... (AU)
1. Ian's 16th

_A/N _

_I couldn't get this idea out of my head- an idea for a story full of mysteries centered around the Kabras. If you've come from my other story in this fandom, _Partners Week!_ I must tell you now that this story will be a little darker than that- a lot of deception and cleverness and the likes of that... But no fear, I am incapable of writing a story that has no humor, so this will have it's moments._

_And also, if you've come from there to here... Thank you so much. I really love my reviewers- you guys are SO nice. Thanks so much._

_So with that thought, I urge you to read on. Thank you for any feedback you give me. I really appreciate it._

CHAPTER ONE: Ian's 16th

**-Ian Kabra-**

Ian Kabra looked at the plane he was to take to London, and he was disgusted.

Ian was a tall, incredibly good-looking boy, with dark hair and olive skin, and amber eyes that made girls melt. He was clever, too, smarter than a lot of people, even people who were twice his age. If he could bother to find the time, he might even be a prodigy.

But today, even his good looks and intelligence couldn't cheer him up. He was in quite a sour mood.

Today was his 16th birthday.

If it were up to him, Ian would NOT spend it on a _coach_ flight, even if it was taking him back to his home country, the UK, and out of the dump called America... Ian sighed and crossed the aisle, looking for his seat. He flinched when he passed a crying baby being shushed by its mother. Ian was simply not cut out for this kind of thing- he was a first class kind of guy, and had been all his life. The word 'disgust' kept popping up in Ian's mind. It described exactly what he thought of this. THIS- meaning everything at the moment, really. This plane, this birthday, maybe this LIFE. He felt more weary than anyone should ever feel when they are only just 16 years old.

Ian's seat was a window seat, and he saw it come into his view. A seat next to some stranger, some stranger on a commercial flight, the first one in his whole life...

On his birthday.

There was a girl already seated in the aisle of three, in the middle seat. Ian hardly gave her a second glance- she was looking down at a notebook and appeared to be writing.

"Excuse me," Ian said blandly. He pushed past the girl and sat down in his seat, looking somewhat mournfully out the window. Ian told himself to just hang on- Hang on until he got to London. Then there would be no more of this average citizen nonsense, this taking of coach class flights, like some tourist. This trip had been an absolutely horrid one, and it would be hard not to say Ian hated his 'employer' for it. Resented her, even.

She was his mum.

Isabel Kabra was the face of multiple 'charity organizations' in the UK. But she wanted to expand her horizons, she'd said. To other countries. Who better to go promote her charities than Ian, her fine young son? Of course, it was a stupid, fake trip. Isabel had probably just felt like getting rid of Ian for a month, and that's why she'd sent him... Her charities were just scams that added to her own fortune, and they always had been. To most of the world, Isabel Kabra was a saint, only interested in helping those less fortunate with her. Maybe she wanted to take her handsome son into the business one day, too, but that was about it.

To Ian and his sister, Natalie, she was a nightmare.

Ian realized the girl in the seat next to him was staring. That was normal, but Ian wasn't in the mood for admirers, which really said a lot about his current state of mind.

Ian turned and looked at the girl.

She looked about his age, and she had red-brown hair. Her eyes were a startling shade of green- they were so vibrant that Ian hadn't been expecting them when he turned to look at her. The girl wore no makeup, but she wore a small smile.

"Hi, I'm Amy." She introduced herself. Ian bit his cheek inside of his mouth. Now he was probably going to have to spend this already horrible flight getting chummy with some_ American_ girl. Probably a tourist who couldn't afford to buy a seat next to her family. Maybe Ian could just act dismissive, and she'd leave him alone.

"Ian." He responded rather flatly. The girl's smile faltered, and she turned back to her book for a moment, picking up her pen from her lap, like she was going to go back to her writing. But she put it back down again.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" The girl, Amy, asked Ian seriously. There was a real spark of intelligence in her eyes when she phrased the question. She didn't seem to just be a fan of his. Ian shook his head.

"I don't think so. I'm not from the... States." Ian said, narrowing his eyes, the slight mark of distaste in his voice when he said 'states'. At this, Amy laughed.

"Well, that's obvious. From your accent." Amy said. When she spoke, her voice was soft and quiet, as was her laugh. Her eyes really were startling... Ian was surprised to find that he thought her kind of pretty, in a very natural way. She was miles away from the kinds of girls he'd dated, so this sudden attraction was interesting. Not that he'd ever really liked those other girls, though. Dating them had always been one of those chores Ian's mother made him do.

Not that it matters, Ian thought huffily. I'll never see this Amy girl again after this flight. And that's a good thing. Ian nodded at her and returned his gaze to out the window, even though the plane wasn't yet moving. The ugly setting of the airport runway stared back at him.

Amy was quiet for a while, and it seemed she might even leave him alone. However, as they were nearing the takeoff of the plane, Amy said something else. She sounded incredibly hesitant to speak to Ian again, evident shyness in her voice. But somehow, there was also some kind of strength behind her words.

"Are you sure we've never met anywhere?"

"Never." Ian confirmed, wondering what her point was. She'd probably seen him when he was on tour, smiling and cutting ribbons and all that stupidity. He was almost a celebrity, and though he could have attained that status quite easily, and did enjoy the high life, he didn't want to be famous. Fame meant too many... Annoyances, shall we say, with being recognized in public places. He got that enough. Ian sighed. "You may have seen me advertising for my mother's charity." Ian braced himself for a fangirl scream, maybe, or something of that sort, but thank goodness that all Amy did was smile and add a light comment to their conversation.

"Oh! You're _that_ Ian? Ian Kabra?"

"Yes." Ian said. Amy's gentle smile faded.

"Do I know you from somewhere else, though?" Amy persisted in that quiet way of hers. Her face looked serious. "We must have met in person." Ian rolled his eyes, getting annoyed.

"I _guarantee _we have never personally met. Now can you please stop asking me that?" Ian said harshly in his clipped accent. Amy looked away from him and said nothing.

The flight attendants went through the usual spiels on safety, and the plane made it's way off the ground. Ian relaxed a little when it had; now he was beginning the trip home. Even though home meant Isabel, whom Ian definitely didn't want to see, home meant that good old London air. Home meant some time off, maybe, if he could manage to free himself from Isabel's chores... As soon as Ian realized he was feeling some hope, he destroyed it with negativity. It was just best not to start hoping for things. Real happiness felt unattainable to him.

Ian really couldn't believe the degree his mother had sank to- all the things she'd done. Isabel wasn't the mother she'd once been. She really was a primary source for Ian's unhappiness, a ruling force in his life. Once, a long time ago, Isabel been an absolutely brilliant mum- but there had always been something there inside of her, like a shadow, something that would destroy her. It was selfishness. Greed. And as Isabel's empire grew, her heart shrank until there was no room left for even her son or her daughter. Now... This present Isabel Kabra was a lying monster of a person.

Unfortunately, Ian knew she'd do whatever it took to get what she wanted. He shuddered, trying to shake off thoughts of his mother. Thinking of her that way really wasn't going to change anything. Maybe just complicate it.

Looking out over the lands through the (small) window of the plane, Ian's thoughts and memories were muddled, mixed with numbness. Numb because instead of sadness he felt a hollow sort of nothing, and that because he'd trained himself to. Sometimes he was like a robot- no emotions. Emotions were for lucky people, Ian thought, people who had time for those kinds of things. And, Ian realized, he hadn't felt happy in a long, long, time.

Whatever, nobody cared. Ian didn't care.

As the plane glided along in the air, Ian Kabra, who, on that day, had turned 16, tried to numb all of his feelings, as he usually did when he had time to think.

Every now and then, he was aware of the feeling of a startling pair of green eyes watching him closely.

That American girl.

_A/N_

_I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please review, everyone :)_

_~Lovely_


	2. Leader's Intuition

_A/N_

_Thanks so much everyone! Like seriously, I was NOT expecting that many reviews. You guys make me smile so much :) For those of you waiting on Partners Week to be updated, don't worry! I'll get to it soon, I promise :) Now... Onward we go._

CHAPTER TWO: Leader's Intuition

**~Amy Cahill~**

Amy Cahill was finding it hard not to cry.

As it was with Ian Kabra beside her, Amy Cahill found that with this flight, there was much too much time to think about things. And it was easy for her to get quite emotional about _certain_ things... She was an emotional girl. One particular topic, however, took the cake on what she was most sensitive about. That would be the topic of her family. Her family, actually, was most of the reason she was leaving her lovely state of Massachusetts and going to London on a plane next to some rich teenager.

Family.

The word cut through Amy like a knife, and she ran a finger absently over the spine of her notebook, already drowning in her thoughts. Ah, her notebook. How she loved it. It was a relic of Amy's grandmother's. Grace Cahill had been one of the most astounding women to ever live, and the notebook Amy now held in her lap contained three- just three- pages of Grace's writing. She'd passed away almost two years ago, and the notebook had been in a box of things Grace's lawyer was instructed to give to Amy. The pages of writing were all things that seemed random to Amy, just notes that Grace had taken, probably. But of all the nonsense within those pages, there was only one destination on the list.

_The Westminster Abbey, London._

And next to the words Grace had sketched a small flower. Amy didn't know if the flower meant anything; well, she didn't really know if 'Westminster Abbey, London', meant anything either. But Amy was the hopeful sort.

Amy flipped open the cover of the book, just as she'd done a thousand times, and flipped to the page where she'd taped a picture of her brother. She really shouldn't have put that picture in there at all... It was too upsetting. And yet she _had_ put the picture there, and now she looked at it a lot, which was not so good on her tear ducts.

His name was Dan, and he was about three years younger than Amy- He was 13 now and Amy was almost 16. Looking at the picture, Amy couldn't help it- tears welled up in her eyes. She missed Dan... She missed his smile and his laugh and even how mean he was to her when he got bent on his teasing.

Amy hadn't seen him in a year.

Amy would not allow her tears to fall, so rather, they sat there in her green eyes, welling up, making her eyes shiny and making her vision blurry. But she would not cry- she was in enough pain already. She had her mission. No point in crying. She was to go to London, and...

And what?

Amy felt like claws were digging into her. Some grasp she couldn't escape. In all truth, she had no idea what she was doing here on this plane to London. Well, she did a bit, but besides Grace's note, it was a thing that, in her time, Grace had called leader's intuition.

"You have a certain kind of intuition," Grace had said to Amy more than once, "When you are a leader. What I mean to say is that a good leader's intuition is always coming from her heart, and she always knows the best thing to do for those that she's leading. You know why? Because she has other people's interests at heart rather than her own." And whenever Grace said this, her eyes would get a playful twinkle to them, one Amy dearly missed.

Amy was trying to follow her leader's intuition. She'd seen the word London and had felt she was meant to go. But she was having so many doubts now that she was actually on the way there...

Amy didn't even feel like a leader. And she wasn't sure she ever would. But she _was_ one- she _had_ to be one, whether she liked it or not. It was not a choice she'd made, but it was a choice she must uphold. For Dan. For Grace. For the people she'd made impossible promises to, for the people who'd gone so far as to give their life for what Amy was searching for. For a cause that they believed in...

"Are you alright?"

Amy started, and she realized in surprise that the question had come from the semi-famous poster guy for that charity organization. Ian Kabra. And Amy also realized that she'd lost her game with pain- in her reminiscing her tears had fallen and left wet trails down her cheeks, and she hadn't even realized, too stuck in the past to notice. Ian regarded her with a sort of a blank look, but in his eyes, he looked like someone who had a lot on his mind, too.

"I'm f-fine." Amy said with a sigh. Whenever she got upset, her tongue slipped and she'd stutter. As she got older it was getting better, but there was no way to get rid of it completely, it seemed. The stutter just slipped out. She hated how timid it made her sound. How timid it made her _feel_. Ian hesitated, looking like he was going to say something else, but he didn't. So instead, Amy blurted, "It's my brother." She even showed Ian Kabra the picture; Amy wasn't sure what had made her do it. Maybe it was the loneliness she'd felt since she'd left Dan... "I haven't seen him in... A while."

No, stop it, she thought. Leaving Dan was best. He's safer away from me...

"A while?" Asked Ian with a sigh to match Amy's. But his sigh was one more of exasperation, not sadness. Amy felt a sting spread across her face. For someone who was in countless commercials trying to get you to call a toll-free number and donate money to the poor, he seemed kind of... Rude. Or blunt, or careless. One of those words. Ian's eyes slowly dipped to look at Amy's picture of Dan.

Suddenly, Amy realized that poster boy Ian's eyes were glued to the page. Not at the picture of Dan, but at the poetry beneath it. It was _A Dream Within a Dream_, by Edgar Allen Poe, and Amy had penned it there thoughtfully about a month ago. Amy wasn't into poetry all that much, but this poem was particularly captivating to her. It always had been. Well, ever since she'd seen it carved into a box it her grandmother Grace's study as a young girl. It was a sad poem, too. Amy had always interpreted it as being about the truth that in life, all things come to pass, but some things you cannot bear to let go of.

It reminded her of Grace, and of her parents, who had died long ago in a car crash, leaving her and Dan to be cared for by their Aunt Beatrice and grandmother Grace, until she, too, had passed and became another person Amy would miss eternally.

The poem was also about dreams versus reality. About missing things from the past. About how sometimes... No matter how much you want something, it's only a dream, something you cannot attain...

"What is that?" Ian Kabra asked. His voice, which had up until this point been bland and careless, was now very soft. It sent shivers down Amy's spine. Ian asked again. "What is that... Poem? You didn't write it, did you?"

"No, It's A Dream Within a Dream," Amy said, finding her voice. Ian's eyes were shockingly beautiful, and she shied away from him as he leaned closer to the book. What does he want? Amy wondered. "By Edgar Allen Poe." She added, and frowned slightly.

Ian's eyes hardened.

"Amy... That's your name, correct?"

Amy nodded. "C-correct."

"Will you be staying in London?" Ian asked. Now that he seemed to be showing interest, his voice was less harsh and emotionless. It was kind of beautiful, actually. His accent. That thought made Amy's cheeks turn pink.

The flight, going from Worcester Airport in Massachusetts to the London Heathrow Airport in the United Kingdom, was just over 5 hours. There would be no flight transitions and the plane was not scheduled to stop. The plane landed in London, but Ian had no way of knowing if Amy was staying there. Maybe, she thought, he thinks I might get on another flight to somewhere else.

"Yes."

"Where?"

Amy wasn't sure if she should answer this. She didn't know Ian at all, so telling him where she was staying probably wasn't a good idea. But the truth was, she had no idea where she was staying- and looking into Ian's intelligent amber eyes, she found she couldn't lie, even if she'd wanted to. "I d-don't know yet..."

"You say you've seen me before."

"Maybe."

Ian was quiet for a moment. "Listen... Amy. I've been touring your little country of America for about a month now. But this?" He gestured around him, and Amy's heart skipped a beat at his British accent. "This is me going back to my home in London. And seeing as we're both headed that way... Why don't we get acquainted?"

Confusion flooded Amy's features. Before, he'd wanted no part in even a friendly conversation. Yet when he'd seen the poem, beneath the picture of Dan... Ian Kabra's attitude had changed dramatically (Though Amy still hadn't seen him look exactly pleased or happy yet). Amy hesitated, but when she looked up into Ian's eyes again, she felt that connection. Of somehow knowing him... From somewhere other than commercials or billboards.

That just didn't fit. She must have seen him somewhere else?

Amy hesitated to speak again. For some reason, she felt like her tongue had gone numb. Inside her head all of her thoughts from moments before collided and sort of rolled up into one collective thought; all her thoughts on her intuition, and her fears, about her family, about... About Dan-

_"You have a certain intuition when you are a leader,"_ Grace had said.

Part of Amy felt crazy, but the other half of her knew something with this Ian guy was important. She felt like... She needed him. And that was a surprising thing to feel in someone she'd met less than an hour ago. But Amy's eyes narrowed- she was ready to trust her intuition, to try her best to go to London and do what needed to be done... She was done doubting herself. Or she would do her best to be done with that.

"Alright," Amy said, finding her voice and agreeing to get acquainted.

She had no idea of what she was getting herself into.

_A/N_

_How was the second chapter? I bet you have a lot of questions... Don't worry, they'll be answered in time. Most of them. ;)_

_~Lovely_


	3. The Things You Do for Trust

_A/N_

_Hey everyone! Update just for you ;D_

_Please enjoy... And bear with me while the story is taking off. I'm fairly certain that the next chapter is where it'll start getting interesting. Sorry for the boring-ness thus far :/_

CHAPTER THREE: The Things You Do for Trust

**-Ian Kabra-**

That poem.

He'd seen it before.

Where he had seen it, exactly, had escaped Ian's mind. But he'd definitely seen it somewhere, and the impact it had on him took his breath away. Not exactly the words- but the feelings he got from looking at them.

It was odd, because he hadn't recognized the author. Edgar Allan Poe was quite a famous poet, and Ian had studied his other works before. And yet he hadn't recognized the poem, even though he was very literate in English studies, more so than any other subject. He'd even gone as far as to ask Amy if she'd written it. No, he had not recognized it...

Amy.

The second Ian had seen that poem his attitude had changed towards the American girl. But he wanted answers- and he intended to get them. Sure, Isabel Kabra was a monster. That didn't mean Ian hadn't learned a few tricks from her. So that's what he did- he was playing nice, pretending to be a friend while just looking for answers.

When people don't respond to kindness... _That's_ when you get tough. And do whatever it takes to get what you want... Because why skip right to that step if pretending to be nice first might work?

As Ian had always been taught to do, he retained all of the information Amy gave him inside his head; she was nearly 16, she had a brother named Dan, she claimed she was going to London for her home school studies, and that she had relatives somewhere she was supposed to stay with...

Claimed.

Ian thought she looked quite like she was lying. She seemed very unsure of her answer to that question, arousing suspicions in Ian. Whenever Amy spoke it was always quietly, and sometimes, Ian found out, surprisingly, she stuttered when she spoke. He couldn't help but find this mildly amusing. Otherwise, he somehow thought he detected some kind of... Loneliness in her, as well as a surprising kind of strength. Amy was shy and she stuttered, but Ian already got the feeling he might be underestimating her.

That made him feel uncomfortable.

Two hours had passed on board the plane, and in a little over three, they would be landing.

Ian felt pressure building in his chest. He had to get this right... How was he to get this American girl to trust him so quickly?

To trust him enough that she might come and stay in the Kabra family mansion?

It was insane an insane plan, but Ian didn't care. The longer he sat there with Amy Cahill the more he felt it; that they were somehow... Linked. He couldn't shake the feeling, odd as it was. An odd sensation, like his heart was being tugged on, overcame him whenever he looked at her. Sure, Ian wasn't much for feelings. But intuition? One should always follow that.

And Ian trusted his own intuition almost unfailingly. If he felt... Connected to someone, even a stranger, he was going to do his best to get what he wanted. And right now he just wanted answers, more so than anything at the moment. And if he let Amy go, he wouldn't get those answers that he wanted. There were just so many secrets covering the surface of this Amy Cahill, and whatever those secrets were... He wanted to know them.

Maybe he wasn't crazy. Maybe Amy felt the same way too.

For someone so shy, and, as he learned, so secretive, she was actually kind of open on most subjects. Others, she skirted. Like family. After the initial mention of her brother, she wouldn't say a word on him or anyone else. She would politely steer the conversation away from those kinds of things...

"So you're staying with your aunt?" Ian asked skeptically. Amy had fed him some story about an aunt that she'd be meeting for the first time, and that she'd been confused about where exactly her aunt lived.

"Yes," Amy said, but Ian's ears could detect the slight waver to her reply. Ian was sure the aunt story was fake- when he'd first asked where Amy was staying, she'd said she didn't know, and she'd stuttered nervously. Even if she was confused about the directions to her aunt's house, wouldn't she still tell Ian she was staying with a relative? She'd tried to turn around and tell him some lie.

His eyes narrowed and he wondered what the reason for her lying was. Oh well, I'll find out, he thought. I just act a little NICER, and I'll buy her excuse... For now. Too bad you're not a good liar, Amy, he thought, looking at her.

"Well." Ian said. He clapped his hands together. "You should email your... Aunt. And work out the directions to her house. Then I can take you there, if you like, once we land. I'll have a limousine pick us up at the airport."

"Oh- uhm, I can just get a taxi-" Amy started. Ian pasted a smile onto his face.

"Nonsense." He said. "I insist." He whipped out his phone and shot a text to someone far below them, miles and miles away in the great city of London. "It's already arranged." Ian snapped his phone shut and slid it back into his pocket. Ian rarely smiled, but he knew that it had quite an effect on girls, and it was looking like he'd need to go the extra mile to get Amy to trust him. So he forced the corners of his mouth upwards and then relaxed, wincing internally.

Amy looked a bit stunned to see his smile. It was like a deadly weapon that Ian only took out on severe occasions... (And every once in a while on his mother's charity commercials, if his mother made him.) Then Amy slowly smiled back.

"Well, alright." Amy said, caving when she saw the convincing hopeful smile Ian had conjured up just for her. "I've never been in a limo before," Amy confessed, smiling shyly.

Ian stopped himself from shuddering. NEVER been in a limo? Must be a poor life Amy was leading. Even though Isabel's scams were horrid, they WERE paying for Ian's high life- and if Ian had ever had a choice... He wasn't sure he'd be able to live like an average citizen.

Taking coach class flights.

Still, at least on this flight he'd met Amy- and she sure was proving to be interesting.

"You should tell me about you."

It took Ian a moment to realize Amy was speaking to him. "Sorry- what was that?" Ian asked. Another average civilian action- apologizing.

"You should tell me a little about you." Amy suggested. Her cinnamon hair fell across one of her eyes; she didn't attempt to sweep her bangs away. Ian felt an odd sensation, like a tingling, in his stomach. He ignored it and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

He WAS trying to get Amy to trust him- and he was starting to think that he would go to some pretty extreme measures to get that to happen- but Ian didn't like talking about himself. At least, not in the way Amy wanted to hear- she probably wanted to know about his family and where he went to school and tedious stuff like that. Ian sighed. "What would you like to know?"

Amy smiled slightly. "You could tell me about your family. Or your mom's charity work- that's really cool that she does all of that. It must be so rewarding." Amy said. Interesting, Ian thought. She asks about my family and she won't say a word on hers. He also found it quite intriguing that she commended his mother for her 'work', and not Ian. In reality, all Ian ever did was star in some commercials, make a few appearances and cut a few ribbons. Anyone could see that. Yet Ian was certain that every other girl he'd ever talked to had babbled on and on about how it was so kind of him, all the 'work he was doing to help people'.

He was just a pretty face used for advertising.

"Well, I have a younger sister. Her name is Natalie." Ian said finally, deciding it would be less horrible to talk about his family than his mothers charity organization. "She's 13." Amy nodded, but didn't say anything. Oh, Ian realized. I'm supposed to say more. He coughed. "She's... Well, she's currently enrolled in a boarding school just outside of London. I don't see her much. My mother does much with her... charity, so she travels sometimes, but much of her work is done at home in her office, where she likes to be left alone. My father is a lawyer and he works constantly. I don't see him much. I believe I saw him collectively for... about a month last year?" Ian said thoughtfully.

Ian hadn't realized the setup of his family might sound odd to an average person, but when he spoke, Amy looked surprised and then she frowned, some amount of sympathy in her shockingly jade green eyes.

"That's sad," Amy said quietly. "It sounds like you don't see your family very much."

Ian shrugged. "I'm used to it." He said, still feeling wary to talk about anything more personal than the weather outside the plane. Ian had to admit, though- Amy was... Curious. She wasn't like any girl he'd ever met. And even though he'd been thinking that on and off since he'd met her, she kept on surprising him. They'd met only hours ago- and yet she was compassionate enough to feel sorry that Ian wasn't close to his family? Ian didn't even care about that.

_Feelings._

Amy must have time for them.

_A/N_

_Again, I apologize if this was dull. Please review, I appreciate constructive criticism a lot :) Stick with me, it'll pick up a lot the next chapter! :D  
_

_~Lovely_


	4. The Lying Type

_A/N_

_Wow thank you everyone, you're all so sweet and motivational :) I apologize for taking a bit to update. Life, y'know? *sighs* I also have updated Partners Week, though, and completed my two-shot. So, yay. xD_

_Enjoy, puh-lease! :)_

CHAPTER FOUR: The Lying Type

**~Amy Cahill~**

Ian was an interesting person.

He was so reserved when he was talking about him family and more personal stuff like that. Amy felt like he was giving her the bare minimum- though from what she understood, Ian's family was so apart that there wasn't much to tell of them, anyway. Amy shivered. Her parents had passed away when she was 8 years old. Before the car crash that took their parent's lives, Amy and her brother had been in quite a close family.

Last year, one of many particular... _Events_ had prompted Amy to separate herself from Dan, purely for his safety. It was after she'd distanced herself from him that she really realized how great her life had once been, when her parents were alive. How safe and beautiful it had been. On the day that Amy left Dan behind, she'd never felt more alone. Her parents were gone, Grace was gone. Aunt Beatrice had never loved them. And she was leaving Dan.

Possibly forever.

And yet, Amy couldn't imagine herself in Ian Kabra's position. It sounded like... Well, like he'd never had a family that loved him. Ever. He didn't even have any memories to cling to, like Amy did. Amy sighed.

The flight had passed more quickly than Amy had realized. Talking to Ian was distracting, and he'd made the time fly. There was something about his amber eyes; there were secrets flickering behind them... Amy kind of wanted to know what made him tick. And that wasn't like her at all.

Ian opened the door to the limo for her.

Amy allowed a small smile as she got in- her bags already in the trunk- but it was sort of a sad smile, too. Adventures in London, she thought, but she wasn't feeling particularly adventurous at all.

"Alright, your aunt's address?" Ian asked her. Amy's heart thumped as she recited an address to him. But it's wasn't her aunt's- Amy didn't even have any aunts, besides Beatrice. It was the address to an in-home fortune teller that she'd found online.

In all honesty, she really didn't have a clue as to what she was doing here in London, except for what her intuition told her.

But she didn't want Ian to know. She didn't know him, even though she felt like she did when she looked him in the eyes. He was just some acquaintance. He didn't need to know who she was or where he was really staying... Goodness, where _was_ she really staying? She didn't know anyplace in London. I'll just find a place after I get dropped off, she figured quietly to herself.

So she'd googled local in-home London businesses and chose the address to a house that didn't have any signs advertising. Amy hoped Ian would just let her off, believing her story.

The drive was a short one, the address actually ending up close to the airport their plane had landed in.

Most of the ride, Amy was silent, staring out the window on the limo. She felt like she should say more to Ian, but she didn't know what. Better not to get... Attached, she decided quietly, blushing slightly to herself at the word 'attached'. It was better that she wasn't close to anyone.

Especially people she'd taken a liking to.

"Here we are, miss." The driver announced, pulling up in front of a small row house. Amy unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door.

The driver started to get out, but Ian shooed him back in and instead he himself got out; he went around and got Amy's bags from the trunk. He smiled ever so slightly, just barely enough to qualify as a smile, actually. He handed Amy her bags.

"Well, that's it, I guess." Ian said formally.

A crushing sense of disappointment settled over Amy's shoulders; she'd probably never see Ian Kabra again...

I could ask for his email, Amy thought, Or his phone number. But that sounded incredibly stupid, and she didn't think that if she gave him her information he'd ever contact her anyway. He was... Really good looking, and she was just a Plain Jane American tourist. Plus... She'd been right before. It would be safer for everyone if she didn't make any London friends. Or any friends, for that matter.

"I suppose it is." Amy said, trying not to let her disappointment slip into her voice. It did anyway. "Thank you," She remembered to add, meaning it. She looked into Ian's eyes for a moment, trying to push away the feeling that she knew him. "...Goodbye." She said awkwardly.

She climbed the steps to the row house, her heart pounding in her chest. Drive away, she begged Ian and the limo driver silently. Drive away... Amy hesitated, and then she looked back.

Ian was still standing there.

"Amy, wait," Ian called.

Amy felt stupid, but a blush rose on her cheeks when he said her name. "Yes?" She responded carefully.

"Aren't you going to give me your number? So that I can give you a ring?" He frowned, like he was actually concerned for her well-being. Amy's blush deepened. "London is my home, and I know it well. I could be your... Guide. To the city, I mean."

"N-no thank you," Amy said, feeling sad to turn down the offer. But she didn't want anyone else getting close to her and getting hurt on her account. Amy sighed. "I'll be fine."

Ian looked like he would say more, but he didn't. "Alright," He said finally, disappointment showing on his face. "I can take a hint, Miss America." Miss America? Amy thought. I'm far from that. Ian turned around and rested his hand on the handle of the limo's door. But he didn't get in; he turned back to Amy and bounded up the steps. "In case you change your mind." Ian said. "I can't let you get away just like that." He pulled something out of his pocket and slipped it into her hand- it was a business card with a phone number on it.

"I w-w-won't change my mind." Amy mumbled. "But thanks anyway."

To make matters worse, Ian decided to give a second, real smile. God. He's so good-looking, Amy thought, almost dazed for a moment. No, she thought. Pull yourself together, Amy. You're not in London for the boys. Stop acting stupid.

It kind of hurt, but she turned away from him. She made a big show of fussing with her bags before she turned to the door.

It was a full minute before she dared turn around to make sure he was gone.

He was, and the limo was gone, too.

Irrational disappointment filled Amy's hollow insides. The handsome boy with the amber eyes full of mystery was gone. "It was going to happen anyway," Amy murmured to herself. She looked down at the card in her hands- and then ripped it into little pieces, which she shoved into her pocket. Now she wouldn't be tempted to call him.

Amy climbed down the steps, getting away from the row houses. I'll need to find some place to stay, she thought, but she decided that before she would, she'd write a bit in Grace's journal. It would make her feel better. Amy sat down on a low stone wall nearby, her bags piled around her feet. She looked around, nervous to be alone, but then again, this looked like a nice settlement- and she was always alone.

Amy hummed to herself, digging through her purse to find her journal. Which side was it in again...?

Ian was gone. He'd driven away, just like that. After he'd talked to Amy for hours and hours... Amy scowled, both at her own thoughts and at the fact that she couldn't find her journal inside her cluttered bag. "He was just a guy," Amy said to herself, digging deeper into the bag. "Just some guy." But the daunting feeling that she knew him was suddenly so overwhelming that Amy felt like she'd betrayed the very memory of Grace; she DID know Ian. Somehow. And she hadn't trusted her leader's intuition. She'd let him get away.

Her journal was gone.

Amy suddenly felt like she was drowning, missing two _VERY_ important things. In her total frustration, Amy dumped the entire contents of her bag onto the ground. But all that did her was make a mess she had to clean up.

Hands shaking, Amy pulled all the pieces of the torn-up business card out of her pocket. I'm so stupid! She berated herself. There was no way she could read the phone number on it now.

I have no idea where I am, Amy thought. I'm in another country. I have no family and no friends. She sank down to the ground.

Hopelessness filled Amy. She tried to fight it off, but it got harder every day. She was sick of trying to be some kind of hero. All she ever did was- Was hurt people. She was no hero, she-

Amy saw someone moving towards her. She looked up, and such powerful relief filled her that if she'd been standing she might have fallen over from the feeling. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. She stood up quickly, nearly tripping on one of her bags.

"Ian!" She yelled, because he was striding down the street, towards the house Amy's 'aunt' lived in. Ian turned and saw her, looking confused that she was standing in a puddle of her bags on the sidewalk, or the curb, as the British say.

Ian reached her.

"Amy- what's wrong?"

Amy was so relieved to see him she could have hugged him. Even better, in his hands he had her journal. "My book!" She yelled. He held it out to her and she grabbed it, cradling it against her chest. "Ian- thank you, I thought I lost it." Maybe it was jet lag, or still just the relief, but Amy seriously almost broke down crying. "This book- it's... It's the only thing I have to remember my grandmother by. She passed away a few years ago. And I just- I thought I'd lost it-"

Ian placed a hand on Amy's shoulder. "It's okay, I found it." He said calmly. Amy shivered at his touch. Suddenly, Ian frowned. "Why didn't you take your bags into your aunt's house?"

Looking Ian right in the face... After he'd been so nice, returning her book and all... Amy's mouth went dry ad the truth came out. "That's not my aunt's house." She said softly. "I... I lied about having somewhere to stay." Amy felt foolish thinking that she hadn't wanted him to know where she was. So she improvised a bit of a different ending. "I didn't want you to feel like you had to help me any more than you already did."

Ian looked surprised. "Oh," He said.

For a moment, Amy seriously thought he'd walk away.

More panic filled her chest. In the back of her mind, she knew she was just scared, and that she would be okay. But suddenly, Amy's plan didn't look so good anymore. She was in alone in an unfamiliar country without any place to stay, and kind of, actually, without money. What if Ian left her here? She was just some American girl. He could leave.

She didn't want him to. He was the only person she knew.

"Ian..." Amy's cover story of being a home schooler wasn't fitting so well any more if she didn't have an aunt. She took a deep breath and conjured up a new lie. "Look. I live with my aunt at home. We don't have a lot of money. Going on this trip... Well, it was a big deal for me. It took a lot of convincing. I even made up a relative to stay with so that my aunt wouldn't be worried about me staying here. I wrote fake letters and stuck them in the mailbox, pretending they were from my aunt on my dad's side. I lied." Amy cringed. She was lying right now. And worse yet was that she knew how to lie well. "I'm sorry to freak out on you like that. I just... Don't know what I'm doing, exactly. I guess."

Amy waited with baited breath.

"Wow," Ian said, running a hand through his perfect hair. "I didn't think you'd come off as the lying type." Amy cringed again, but he held up his hand to quiet her and he went on. "But I understand why you did it. You were just excited- you wanted to see London." Ian said seriously, nodding like he understood.

Amy nodded along, feeling terrible for lying but happy that he bought it.

"Well... Thank you for bringing me by book back. It means a lot to me." Amy said. She smiled shyly. "And... I kind of lost your number."

"Lost?" Ian asked, raising an eyebrow. "That was fast." Amy's cheeks flushed.

"Sorry," She muttered.

"Well, come with me." Ian said. He picked up three out of four of Amy's bags and headed back the way he'd come. His limousine waited by the curb.

"Where are we going?" Amy asked, nervous and confused but feeling a lot less alone than she had minutes before.

Ian nodded towards her. "I know the perfect place you can stay."

_A/N_

_How'd you like that long chapter? :)_

_I think the interesting thing you guys get to do as readers and reviewers is take guesses at how honest the characters are being. Do you think you can tell their truths from their lies...?_

_For instance, this chapter was centered around Amy, and she lied to Ian more than once. How many times do you think he lied to her? Can you tell genuine honesty from shady lies? These characters have so many complex layers... Who ARE they?_

_These things are for me to know, and you to find out._

_~Lovely_


	5. Kabra Residence

_A/N_

_Oh my gosh, I love all of yall's reviews. xD Thanks so much._

_For those of you without accounts, who guest review, GET ACCOUNTS! Then I can reply to you! xD_

_BLEGH when I was writing this like a third of what I had written (and I was almost done the chapter) managed to get deleted -_- Oh well, here's the chapter, and I hope it turned out okay. Lol_

CHAPTER FIVE: Kabra Residence

**-Ian Kabra-**

It was kind of cute how Amy thought Ian believed her.

He was a class A liar himself. He could tell when she was faking it. Mostly, at least. He still thought she was lying about being a home schooler on a trip. There was more to her trip then that. More to HER then that. He didn't know why, but he just _knew_.

And because of that, he'd taken her book.

When they were in the limousine. It had just been too easy- she'd been staring out the windows, looking anywhere but at him. His quick fingers had picked the journal out of her bag easily. Then Amy had left, like he knew she would. And accordingly, he came back to give her her book, which "must have fallen out in the car".

He hadn't read it, though. The journal. The diary. Whatever it was.

As Amy had stood on the steps of the home she'd claimed her aunt lived in, Ian had felt an odd twinge of disappointment. Even though he hadn't believed her to really know anyone who lived there, she was still going to go anyway, to willingly walk away from him. And she'd been willing to do it without hearing another word from Ian, ever, too. HE had had to give HER his number.

But he'd easily dismissed the slight disappointment. He was used to doing that. Besides, he'd see her again in a moment, anyway... His fingers had stroked the spine of Amy's book; it was fairly plain, and he itched to open it, to read what the mysterious American girl had written inside of it besides that poem, and that taped in picture of her brother.

But for some reason, he couldn't do it. It felt somehow wrong. And that was saying a lot, because for the most part, Ian did whatever he wanted. But at this particular time, he just hadn't had it in him to open the book. To read it. He just couldn't make himself do it and he didn't know why. He'd scowled heavily and threw the book on the floor of the car, urging the driver to turn back to the house once more. And then he'd scooped up the book and taken it to its owner.

He felt relieved when he saw her, and that honestly surprised him. The second he'd set his eyes on her again he could feel his tensed up shoulders- which he hadn't noticed until that moment had been tense at all- relaxing. It was funny- he could have sworn she'd looked relieved, too.

Now they were back in the limo, on the way to the Kabra family mansion.

"Where are we going?" Amy asked, finally breaking the silence in the car. She looked at Ian somewhat awkwardly from the seat over to his right. Ian smirked slightly, thinking of what he'd called her before- Miss America. He'd said so just to be ironic.

"We are going," He said lightly, "To my mansion."

And then changed streets and took a long, private road, and they pulled up to the gate.

The very gate itself was impressive. It was huge, tall and wide, made of shiny black metal that twisted in a pattern of ornate curls. In the center of the design was a bold K- for Kabra. Amy was staring, already in awe. Ian rolled his eyes, used to seeing such things. He had all his life. Besides, the gate was absolutely nothing compared to the actual place he called home.

'Mansion' might be an understatement, Ian thought boredly. Amy's eyes were glued to the window, her mouth slightly agape at what she saw.

The Kabra mansion was 4 stories tall. From the outside, it was a beautiful, classic old-London style building, with stained glass windows and a huge front door with brass knockers in the shapes of curling snakes. A huge garden was out back, and the Kabra's land went on for quite a few kilometers. The outside view of the mansion may have been old-fashioned classy, but Ian knew that on the inside, everything was state of the art. Everything.

"This is where you_ live_?" Amy asked. She paused. "It's beautiful," she murmured. Ian felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. He was used to having people be impressed by his home, but he'd never cared what they had to say, even as they'd gone on and on about how lovely it was. Somehow, though, it felt different to hear Amy say it.

"Come on." Ian said calmly. For the second time, he denied the driver the chance to carry the bags inside. He got them all himself. He did, however, allow the driver to open the grand front door for them, and then return to the limo to drive it back to Mr. Kabra's car shed. "This," Ian said, grabbing Amy's hand and pulling her up the steps to the door, "Is the front entrance."

The front entrance was kind of like a hotel lobby. Or Ian assumed it must look like one to someone like Amy. The floor was polished, pinkish white tile. The ceiling was high above them with a grand chandelier and exotic plants adorned the corners of the room. Amy gasped.

"You mean it?" Amy asked Ian, her eyes wide. "That I can stay here?" A rose-colored blush spread through her cheeks. "I can just stay for tonight, if you want. I'll find a hotel online. Or- or I could just go into town and look."

Ian shrugged. "Just stay, Amy. Really, there's no need for you to leave." He glanced around. "It's not as if my family is having space issues and you can't use one of our forty guestrooms."

Amy's eyes got wider, unable to tell if he was kidding or not. "Forty?"

Ian realized he was still holding her hand and he dropped it, unsure of why he'd ever grabbed it in the first place. He lugged the bags to the grand staircase at the far end of the room.

"Coming?" He called, raising an eyebrow. Amy was still standing by the front door.

"Oh- Right." He heard Amy say, and she joined him at the bottom of the steps. For a moment, Ian simply looked at her. She was wearing a beat up gray t-shirt and jeans that looked prehistoric. On her feet she wore sneakers that Ian knew the resident floor polishers would probably want to set fire to. And as Ian was coming realize, her hair was dropping into her big green eyes, as it always seemed to be.

She looked so out of place here that it wasn't even funny. She didn't fit in with the shiny marble floor and the elegant, curving staircase. She didn't fit with the chandelier hanging overhead. Amy didn't go with the satiny curtains on the clear, perfect windows. She didn't fit in.

Amy Cahill, you don't belong here, he thought, but somehow he couldn't picture her anywhere else.

"What?" Amy said, frowning, and he realized he was staring. He shook his head.

"Nothing. Come on." Ian said, and began his ascend of the stairs, a bit lost in thought. He was carrying both his own bags and hers- he could have easily called someone to take the bags up for both of them, but he was trying to be hospitable. He still needed Amy's trust if he was to learn anything about her. And he definitely wanted to know things about her.

"Oh, I can carry-" Amy started, but Ian shook his head and kept climbing, cutting her short.

They reached the second floor.

"This is the guest wing." Ian announced. He dropped his own bags but left Amy's in his hands. "My room is in the wing straight across from here- the left wing- on the third floor. My room is the one with the black door- it's at the end of the hall." Ian walked forwards, entering the hallway of the guest wing. "You, however, can stay in any one of these rooms. It really doesn't matter which."

Amy followed somewhat hesitantly. "Alright," She murmured. "I'll just..."

She walked up to a door, selected at random, Ian figured, and she walked inside. He followed, not sure he'd ever even seen the inside of it. He wasn't in the guest wing very often; he discarded Amy's bags by the door.

The room itself seemed to have a sea foam and light blue color theme. The carpet underfoot was a fluffy, light shade of blue, and elegant sea foam stenciling decorated the walls, which were trimmed in a gold color. The bed was sea foam and overhead hang a large blue-crystal chandelier. The furniture was all white with accents of the main room colors. A door off to the right was open and showed a clean, stocked bathroom with white and blue tiling.

Amy gasped when she walked in. This, Ian thought, might resemble a hotel room to someone like her.

Amy smiled at Ian. She smiles quite a lot, he thought, miffed for some reason. Maybe it was because he himself rarely smiled- maybe he was jealous, jealous that even little things could make her happy enough for the corners of her mouth to lift upwards in an actual smile.

"I'll be in my room." Ian said, knocking Amy out of her fancy-room induced euphoria. He hesitated. He'd almost added 'if you need me' to the end of his sentence. He didn't. "I assume you'll want to join me for dinner. 8 PM, in the dining room downstairs. If you start at the front door, it's a left, straight down the hall, then a right."

Amy nodded.

"Ian... I don't know how to thank you enough." Amy said, still smiling. She sat down on the sea foam colored bed. "I'll stay for tonight, then I'll be out of your hair, I promise. Thanks for... uhm, letting me stay. I mean, I know we just met this morning. So it means a lot. If there's a way I can make this up to you, let me know." Amy said, her eyes widening in sincerity.

It's funny, Ian thought, (even though he didn't actually think it was funny) that I've let her into my home. Because she was some girl he'd met that morning, and he'd already deemed her a liar. But he wanted to know _why_._ Why_ she was a liar. What was she hiding? He wanted to know her story. He was curious. The idea that she might leave so soon...

Somehow, looking at her now, she didn't look like a liar at all. She looked kind of... nice.

"You can thank me," Ian decided, slipping out the door and calling over his shoulder, "By not leaving quite so quickly."

Ian went to get his bags, feeling satisfied now that she would stay out of guilt. But his bags were already gone. He wasn't surprised, though; that just meant an employee of some sort had picked them up and taken them to his room. Ian went to the left wing and climbed the stairs there, going to the top floor. For some reason, with every step he took away from American Amy, he felt more and more uneasy.

Ian dismissed the feeling, entering his room. He hadn't been there in a while. His bags, he saw, were neatly waiting for him at the foot of his bed.

"Miss America," Ian muttered to himself, and he sat down, his thoughts stuck on Amy. He yawned, still tired from the terrible uncomfortable-ness that was a coach class flight. Ian leaned back in his chair, but he saw movement at the door. He raised an eyebrow, admittedly a bit surprised at who was standing there.

"Happy birthday, Ian." Natalie Kabra said, leaning against the door frame.

_A/N_

_If ya didn't happen to know, the picture for this story is the Westminster Abbey, in London, at night. :) __NATALIE! xD I love Natalie. Lol_

_So, please review. I'd like it if you told me what parts you liked in this chapter :D Also, how was your day? Tell me how it went! xD _

_A big thank-you to all the reviewers!_

_~Lovely_


	6. Dinner

_A/N_

_Yo! Quick note here._

_ I wanted to establish a few things, for those of you asking where the heck this story is going. xD_

_This IS a mystery story- I think that aspect will truly start in the next chapter. However, I wanted to have a few chapters really explaining How Amy and Ian met and all, and I wanted you to get a real sense of who they are._

_In this story, Ian is much more robotic- he doesn't want to deal with any emotions at all, and yet, he can't help but be curious about Amy. And in this story, Amy is very secretive about certain things... Yeah, so anyway- the mystery will start soon. (MORE than just the mystery of who the heck Amy is ;D)_

CHAPTER SIX: Dinner

**~Amy Cahill~**

Amy chewed on a Twizzler and stared at the ceiling.

She was kind of tired. Maybe she should take a little nap before she had to go downstairs for dinner...

Amy was splayed out on her guestroom bed, a bag of candy she'd bought at the airport next to her. She was eating the whole thing pretty quickly, which would probably spoil her appetite for dinner, but whatever. It was funny- Amy never used to be interested in candy and sugary stuff like that. That was always her brother Dan's domain. She'd actually taken up the bad habit of eating candy after she'd left him, come to think of it. The candy reminded her of him- but in a good way.

Amy hummed to herself, flipping onto her side. Now she could see the window on the other side of the room.

She felt relieved to have somewhere to stay. Yes, STAY for her time in London.

She'd been thinking it over.

She didn't know how long she was going to stay, and she'd been planning on finding a hotel of some sort, which posed a problem. She didn't have very much money. What if the things she found here meant she needed to stay? For weeks? Months? She hardy had enough money for paying for a cheap hotel for a week. Staying longer than that in the city would mean she wouldn't actually have a roof over her head, which was an absolutely terrifying thought.

But Ian had TOLD her to stay. He wanted her to. Right? Right. So she could stay...

Still, the idea of staying here- well, now the ACT of staying, more like, because she'd decided that she would- made her feel guilty. What if... Bad things happened? Because of her? Amy didn't want anything like that on her conscience. Ian had been too nice to her.

It'll be okay, she promised herself quietly, trying to reassure herself. Nothing will happen... And even if something does happen, I could always just... Leave.

A part of Amy was begging her to get up and go right now. She had her destination- the Westminster Abbey. She didn't need to stay here at the Kabra's mansion. What she _needed_ was to know why Grace had written the particular destination of the Westminster Abbey into her notes. Amy wanted to know desperately if she might find answer there, because she sure had a lot of questions... It was funny- how sometimes, she felt like she didn't know anything, and yet, she was supposed to be in charge of so many things...

But Ian was so nice to her. He wanted her to stay. So she'd stay, at least until she knew she had to go. Because maybe, Amy had thought, Ian was kind of... Lonely.

Amy sighed, sinking down deeper into the cushion-y, soft bed. I can't go today, she thought firmly. It's too late, I won't be able to explore much.

Okay, so maybe she couldn't go there today. But she could still start researching the place.

Amy opened one of her bags and pulled out a laptop. She powered it on and began searching the internet for history of the Abbey. She sighed slightly, disliking the cold feeling of the laptop keys beneath her fingers. Amy much preferred research by book, but she could hardly go to a library now- for same reason that she couldn't go to the Abbey. It was getting kind of late. For a half a second, Amy considered finding Ian and asking him what he knew about the Westminster Abbey. He _was_ British, after all. But she pushed that thought aside; he probably didn't want to be bothered...

At least the internet was fast.

"The Westminster Abbey," Amy read aloud, "Is the traditional place of coronation and the traditional place of burial for English, British, and Commonwealth monarchs." She paused. That meant that that was where royalty got crowned- and buried after they died. Interesting.

Amy kept reading for a long time. Boy, did she love research- the more she learned the wider her eyes got, taking it all in. But desperation began making her feel anxious. She wasn't sure exactly what she was hoping to find, and yes, all of this history was interesting, but nothing particularly was standing out- Why had Grace written down that destination? Was it just some place Grace had wanted to visit, not somewhere of actual significance? Was this a wild goose chase, and Amy should have never come?

Amy felt like her throat was closing up. Calm down, she thought, because she knew she was getting too upset. You're being irrational, Amy, she thought. You need to take this slower. Maybe get some food- real food, not Twizzlers- then come back to researching-

Food.

Amy quickly looked at the clock.

It was 8:24, and Ian had said to meet him in the dining hall at 8 o' clock for dinner.

Eyes wide, Amy hurried to turn off her computer and get off of the comfy bed. She felt embarrassed- already, she was messing up Ian's hospitality by being late. Amy dashed to her door, throwing it open. She ran out into the hall and-

Smacked right into Ian.

"Oh!" Amy muttered, stumbling. Apparently, Ian had been holding papers, because they flew everywhere and rained down on them. "Sorry!" She gasped, trying to right herself. At least she hadn't done a complete face plant in front of him or something. Ian didn't look very forgiving, scowling at the mess the papers had made. "I'm sorry," Amy said again, bending down to pick up some of the papers. "I forgot about dinner. I was coming down just now- Here, let me help you-"

"No!" Ian snapped, his voice harsh. He grabbed the last piece of paper that was drifting downwards, then bent to scoop the rest off of the ground. Amy shrank back when he yelled. Ian straightened. He looked at Amy and sighed. "Sorry," He muttered. "Just... Important papers." The two of them stood without saying anything for almost a full minute, Ian rearranging the papers in his hands. Finally, he looked up and said, "I was coming to get you. You know- for dinner."

Amy felt her cheeks turn pink. I'm right, she thought, he's probably just lonely. That was the reason someone like HIM was even talking to someone like her... Ouch. Oh well, don't get attached, Amy thought dully, repeating a mantra of hers that she sadly had to think nearly every day of her life. She just couldn't afford getting familiar with other people.

Even people who's house- or mansion- she was staying in.

"Sorry," Amy said a third time.

"That's fine. I mean- whatever." Ian shook his head, glancing again at the papers in his hand. He ripped his gaze away and beckoned towards the stairs. "Well, the food is getting cold. We should go."

"Right." Amy nodded and followed him down the steps. So far, she'd seen only a small percentage of the mansion, so walking towards the dining hall, she saw many impressive things. Everywhere they went, everything was impeccably fancy and clean, not a hair out of place. There were many exotic-looking plants, and many chandeliers, and many paintings that kind of looked priceless.

"The dining hall," Ian said boredly. But it, too, was beautiful.

The table was huge and covered with way more food than Amy thought she and Ian would ever be able to eat. It all looked amazing. Amy's stomach growled, loudly enough for Ian to hear, and he shot her a look that made her face turn red. Okay, she thought, it looks like that candy didn't ruin my appetite after all. Then Amy noticed someone else sitting at the table.

She was a girl, probably around Dan's age, Amy judged. She was beautiful. She had long, black hair that was neatly swept over her shoulder. She was wearing a simple but classy white dress, and dangling gold earrings. She had the same amber eyes as Ian.

"Hi," Amy said awkwardly. Is that his sister? Amy wondered. Ian had said she went to a boarding school.

The girl's eyes were the same color as Ian's, but to Amy, they looked harsher. The girl's fingers, which rested lightly on the elaborate tablecloth over the table, drummed quietly while she stared at Amy. What did Ian say her name was? Amy thought anxiously. She couldn't remember. Tripping over her own feet, Amy made her way towards the girl and held out a hand, so that she might shake it.

"Hi," Amy repeated. "I'm Amy."

The girl didn't move, and slowly, Amy put her hand down. The girl shrugged. "I know who you are." She picked up a spoon off of the table and glanced at her reflection in it before putting it back down.

Amy backed off, feeling incredibly un-wanted. "Okay," She muttered. She backed up so far that she bumped into Ian again. Not quite as hard as the first time-thank goodness- but still. Ian carefully righted her, his expression unreadable, and he glanced at his sister, his fingertips lingering on Amy's shoulders before falling away. "That's Natalie." Ian said, and Amy shot him a look of embarrassed gratitude for catching her. "My sister." Ian said, and his gaze hardening. "I had no idea she was coming for a visit."

Natalie shrugged again. Then she smiled, but it looked rather forced. "My apologies, dear brother. I didn't know _she_ was going to be here either." Natalie stabbed a finger towards Amy, but she was still smiling. Amy felt her blood run cold. "But no matter. We should eat before the turkey grows icicles." Natalie said, sarcasm ringing in her voice. So they did. They ate.

The food was delicious, but Amy couldn't properly enjoy it. She found the presence of Natalie Kabra completely unnerving. She didn't know why, but it was kind of humiliating. Amy could never hold the girl's stare; more than once she'd looked up to see Natalie watching her closely. Maybe it was how pretty she was- her nice clothes and her nice looks. Amy felt like rags next to lace.

Amy would have liked to talk to Ian, and actually have dinner with him. Oh- not WITH him, Amy thought, blushing. Just not... With Natalie there. Maybe she was paranoid, but to Amy, she felt like Natalie was judging her every move or something, waiting for her to do something she could laugh at or cruelly execute her for.

Finally, Amy couldn't take it any more. She stood up abruptly, leaving a bit of her food left on her plate. "Thanks for the dinner, Ian. I'm just going to..." Amy forced herself to give a nod in Natalie's direction before she fled. As she left, she heard Ian say, sounding quite annoyed,

"Look what you did, Natalie. You scared her away."

And the Natalie's retort: "Well, did you SEE what she was wearing?"

Amy winced and ran as fast as she could back to her guest room.

_A/N_

_Here's another note- this story is rated T for the adventure aspect that's coming. It's rated T because, yeah, there might be some injuries (...I like inflicting wounds upon my characters o_O) and stuff like that. It's NOT rated T for the romance. The romance is still K+ okay? xD_

_Did you like this chapter? Goodness, if I knew this Natalie, I'd be terrified of her. xD_

_;D_

_Please, please, PLEASE review. Thank you. And I'll try to update this- and Partners Week- soon! :)_

_~Lovely_


	7. Intriguing Amy

_A/N_

_Thank you SO much to the reviewers. Like you have no idea- THANK you._

_I will also try to update Partners Week soon, but please, PLEASE be patient with me on that one. Thanks._

CHAPTER SEVEN: Intriguing Amy

**-Ian Kabra-**

Ian was finding it surprisingly hard not to lose his control, which was interesting- because he always, _always_ had his emotions in check. Always. That, or he didn't have any emotions at all.

But Ian really didn't like Natalie showing up like that- at least, not when she'd brought the news that she had.

Ian sighed, sitting down on his bed. His head went between his hands. The papers his sister had given him that bore the news he so hated rested beside him. Ian knew it wasn't actually the paper making his life difficult- it was the meaning in the words printed on the paper. But that didn't stop Ian from wanting to rip the papers to shreds and then set them on fire.

Ian hadn't felt this angry in a long time.

It was like his mother got worse and worse, with the commands she issued. Ian didn't exactly want to resent her. But it was hard not to. She was there at every turn, forcing him to be a poster boy. She didn't actually care about him anymore, she just wanted to help use him to her advantage. To grow her own wealth... Because that was what the papers had printed on them. Information for yet another little 'errand' as Isabel called it.

Ian felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristling. This 'errand', however, didn't seem normal. For one thing, Isabel usually sent Ian his information via papers. Yes, this was a paper note, but it clearly stated that Isabel herself was on her way to give a more thorough explanation as to what she needed him to do. And for another thing, it was marked clearly with the instructions for him not to show the letter to anyone.

Ian was not looking forward to seeing Isabel.

Isabel usually worked from home. That was true. But she did make extravagant trips now and then, and she was currently in Jamaica, as Natalie had informed him. What could she possibly want me to do, Ian thought, that would prompt her to return home early?

This day, still his birthday, just got worse and worse. The idea that he was to go and fake being a good person just so that his mother could continue to rip people off- and so soon after he'd returned home from the last trip of doing this- made him want to scream.

At least it'll be over soon, he thought gruffly, trying to put out the fire burning in his veins. He wished he was referring to the 'errands' that his mother set up for him, but he was referring to his birthday.

It bothered Ian very much that Natalie was hanging around now. And she didn't even say why. He had suspicions, though- that she had something to do with the papers. She had delivered them, after all, which meant that she'd been in direct contact with Isabel. Ian sighed and uncurled his fingers out of the fists they had been in; his knuckles were white from holding his hands closed so tightly.

He stood up and jammed the papers Natalie had given him into a drawer. He was about to go and find his sister and demand to know more, when for the second time that day, his sister herself appeared at his doorway, mockingly repeating the same thing she'd said to him the first time.

"Happy birthday, Ian."

Ian scowled. "Why do you do that?" Ian asked. "Just pop up like that?" He shook his head. "Never mind, I was about to go find you, anyway."

"Is that so?" Natalie said slowly.

"Yes. Now what do you want?" Ian said. There was a pause.

"What do YOU want?" Natalie asked. "You said you were coming to find me."

"I want to know more," Ian said, his tone becoming demanding, "About this trip mum has planned." His hands were fists again, and he was angry again, unable to control it. Isabel used to have the decency to at least give him breaks between her chores. Now she was ready to cart him off to some other place to pose for photographs when this was only the first DAY that he'd come home.

Natalie hesitated for a moment. Then she came inside the room and sat down next to Ian. When she looked at him, her eyes were serious and for once, she wasn't being a self-absorbed rich girl.

Instead, she looked worried, and the most defenseless that Ian could remember ever seeing her.

"Ian..." Natalie frowned, searching his gaze. And he was not at all expecting what next came out of her mouth. "Ian, I'm worried about mum. I think something is wrong with her. Really wrong."

Natalie never seemed to care about anyone, really. Well, when Ian saw her. A long, long time ago, when things had been much... Happier, Ian and Natalie had been inseparable. There was a bond between them that they'd shared, a link, almost, that made them understand each other, like their minds were connected. Ian could still read her quite well most of the time, and she could read him, but they weren't close anymore.

At all, really.

Ian was close to no one. And as far as he knew, Natalie was close to no one. As they grew up childhood ended quickly and they became adults faster than they should have. Natalie was just barely 13, her birthday close to his. And yet she was more of an adult than a lot of actual adults that he'd met. She had the air of a grade-A businessperson. She did not make mistakes. She was serious, although she was vain.

She cared about no one.

"Worried?" Ian said, and the word sounded foreign on his tongue, because Ian himself did not _worry_ about other people.

Natalie nodded solemnly. She sighed. "Ian. She isn't- She hasn't-" Natalie paused for a moment, recomposing herself. "She's worse." She said finally, quietly. Her eyes narrowed as if to say directly to Ian, "This is serious." She opened her mouth, but it took a moment for sound to actually come out of it. Ian again was surprised at the way she was acting. "I used to think..." Natalie said slowly, "That she wasn't all gone. That she wasn't really the person she appeared to be turning into." She laughed, but it sounded bitterly metallic, with no humor behind it. "But she is, and she's proven it to me now. Besides. Look at what she's made us into."

What she'd made them into. Inhuman. Emotionless except for the emotions that were darker- selfishness and anger. They were like robots, robots who carried out Isabel's will.

Ian stood up abruptly, not liking this conversation. "I need to leave." He said coldly.

He brushed past her and made for the door, yanking his hand away when she tried to hold on. He was pushing out thoughts of his sister and his mother from his mind. Natalie, you've gotten softer, Ian thought stonily. He ignored her calling him. Natalie appeared to have weakened.

He would go see Amy, he thought. He needed to make sure she wouldn't be rethinking her stay because of Natalie, who had been sure to act tough just because Amy was wearing clothing similar to what the hired 'homeless people' in the last commercial Ian had been in (for his mother's charity) had worn.

Ian thought again of the poem he'd seen in American Amy's journal. It was so strange that he hadn't seen it before. It made no sense. It was intriguing. _She_ was intriguing. And the nearer and nearer he got to her room, the more and more convinced he became that he could not let her go- not before he knew who she was. The idea that she might leave made his chest feel tight. Now that he had met her, he didn't want her slipping away.

He needed to know who she was.

Arriving at his door, he composed himself; then he lifted a hand and raised it in a knock against the door.

There was a slight shuffling and then Amy called, reluctantly, "Ian?" Ian opened the door, and when Amy saw him, she looked relieved. She was sitting behind a computer, which she hastily closed. Ian's eyes narrowed, wondering what could be on the screen. "S-sorry," Amy blurted immediately, looking embarrassed. "You know- about... Dinner. Because- I mean, first, I was late, and then I left kind of... Early." Her sentence finished awkwardly and her words seemed to hang in the air as she waited for him to reply.

Ian shook his head. "It's alright." He said with a sigh. He glanced at the clock. It really was getting late. "Were you just about to go to sleep?" Ian asked, frowning. "Am I bothering you?"

Amy's cheeks turned slightly pink. "No," She said. "I don't usually go to sleep for a while... Bad habit, I guess. You're fine." She added on to the end. She smiled shyly, and Ian had to look away, mixed feelings tugging at his guts. What's wrong with me? He wondered.

"I apologize on Natalie's behalf." Ian said gruffly. "She's just... Cold. But I promise she's not as bad as she likes to think she is."

Amy looked embarrassed again. "Oh- It's okay. I just kind of felt... Out of place."

For the second time, her words just seemed to hang in the air. She sighed quietly. There was a pause, and then Ian said, bitterly, "This hasn't been a good birthday." He didn't know why he said it- he just did. He didn't want her sympathy, but he seemed to be fishing for it anyway. Amy's eyes widened.

"Today was your _birthday_?" She said. "Wow- I had no idea. Uhm, happy birthday. Are you 16?"

Ian laughed. "It's a little late for that," He said, his voice still tinged with a sour edge. "But yes, I'm 16. Don't worry, it's not you- It's Natalie. And my mother. Natalie is acting strangely, and today she sent word that my mother is planning to ship me off to who knows where to be her servant AGAIN." He couldn't help it- anger seeped into his voice. "After I've only just gotten home. Some birthday," He added bitterly.

Amy frowned. She sat cross legged on her bed. "That's terrible," She said quietly.

Ian wondered if he had wanted to test her- he'd wondered if she'd care. And she sounded like she did. Not for the first time, he thought about the fact that, yes, it was only that morning that they had met, even if it felt like days and days ago. (It had been a long day.) And yet, despite the fact that they didn't know each other so well- she felt bad for him. She felt sorry. He could see it on her face and in her tone when she spoke.

Why does she care? He thought. "Whatever." Ian said briskly, finding his voice. "Just forget it."

Amy shook her head. "Has anyone said happy birthday to you today?" She asked, not just forgetting it. Ian frowned.

"Natalie has." He snorted. "But it's not as if she actually cares."

"Well then." Amy said, still quietly. "Happy birthday." And she smiled brightly, even though her voice was quiet, as if for full effect.

Ian felt like he was looking into the face of someone completely alien. Everyone he knew had similar reactions to him. Girls loved him- but in a fake way that annoyed him to death. Adults and anyone else often just hated him- because he had no tolerance for... Well, anything. He wasn't liked, and when he was liked, it was because he was good-looking, or because he'd been in a commercial and appeared to be helping other people.

And yet here was this girl Amy, so unlike other girls- so mysterious and full of secrets and so plain, and yet, so... Not. She seemed like an open book half the time- but the other half she was the most intriguing person he'd ever met, and he'd just met her that morning. It confused him.

She sounded like she actually wanted him to have a happy birthday.

_A/N_

_What did you think of that chapter? I know, I know- I said the mystery portion would have kicked in by now. I promise, it's coming! Now- please, any advice/compliments are appreciated ;D_

_~Lovely_


	8. The Reoccurring Dream

_A/N_

_How are you all doing?_

_I'd like to apologize for the slower updates on this story; it wasn't that I DIDN'T want to update it- I actually really did- but it was just more of a matter of time. When I come on here I have a lot of PMs to answer and also I've been working hard on _Partners Week!_ because it's a bigger project for me._

_However, once that story ends, my main focus will be here, with this one. And I can say that I'm really excited to see where I go with this._

_Thank you for all waiting so patiently, it means a lot to me, and thanks for the reviews! Like, a lot! :)_

CHAPTER EIGHT: The Reoccurring Dream

**~Amy~**

Amy was dreaming.

This dream was a reoccurring one for her, that she'd had many times before. She often had the dream when she was stressed out.

In the dream, she was sitting in Grace's house. It looked the way it used to, before Grace's death. It didn't look as abandoned as it did now.

The house was absolutely beautiful, and looked in this dream just the way that Amy preferred to remember it- clean and with secret and ornate details in the furniture and the walls, and with stained glass windows in the study. Dream-Amy sat with her grandmother at the old oak desk in Grace's study room.

On the desk sat an old-looking, unopened letter, and a set of china plates and teacups as well as a teapot with a gentle curl of steam coming out of the spout. A vase sat near the edge of the desk, holding a single blue rose with slightly drooping petals. Grace's wooden box with the carving of Edgar Allan Poe's _A Dream Within A Dream_ sat near the edge of the desk, too.

"Amy," Grace said calmly as she began to pour tea for the two of them, "Do you know the legend of the Fountain of Youth?" In this dream, sun was streaming brilliantly through the stained glass windows, making a beautiful pattern of light beams across the floor and the walls.

"The Fountain of Youth is in a lot of old myths," dream-Amy replied, the edges of her mouth curling into a smile. She'd always loved spending time with Grace, and that kind of memory entered her dream every time. "Usually it seems to be something somebody is looking for- and when they find it, it's supposed to keep them from aging."

Dream-Grace gently pushed a teacup to Amy. The tea it contained was chamomile, same as it always had been when Amy spent time with Grace in her study. Even in this dream, the scent of the tea made Amy feel safe and at home. Grace rested a hand on top of Amy's. "You're correct, as usual." Grace said, a merry glow in her eyes. But her expression darkened suddenly, ever so slightly. "Amy- you're in danger." She said softly.

Amy always had this dream the same way, and this time wasn't an exception. It was following the same lines that the dream always did- the letter and the blue rose on the counter, the tea, Grace's box. The mention of the Fountain of Youth, and then Grace growing scarily serious.

"Danger?" Dream-Amy echoed, as if she could not comprehend such a thing while she was in such a safe place here with Grace.

Grace nodded. "The Fountain of Youth is a myth Amy, but aspects of it are true. There are ways to live forever. And some people will not rest until they have found out those ways." Grace's hand tightened around Amy's, her eyes growing ever-darker. "In the past, I made a mistake, Amy. And now I cannot fix it- it's up to you, my darling. You're the new leader."

Dream-Amy's throat tightened. "What do you mean?" She asked.

And then, as she always did, she woke up.

She was tangled in her blankets, and for a moment, she lost the sense of where she was; then it came flooding back.

The plane ride- to London. Meeting Ian Kabra.

Staying in his mansion.

Amy shook off her blankets, feeling unusually alone and creeped-out. For a moment she wondered what she was doing, staying here in the home of someone she'd met so recently. But she reminded herself that yes, while she kept having that thought, there was something about Ian that she needed to know. She wanted to keep tabs on him. She was curious.

She was sure she must have met him somewhere before? Everything about him was familiar.

Amy hurried to grab clothes out of her suitcase, and she went to the bathroom, locking herself in. Her reflection in the mirror showed her a tired, red-brown haired girl with big, scared looking green eyes with bags under them. Shivering, Amy started the shower, then decided that she wanted a bath.

When the water had risen to nearly the top of the tub, Amy poured in some fancy French-labeled bath bubbles. At least, she hoped that's what they were. Because yeah, the label was in French...

But the water did bubble up, and Amy lowered herself into the tub. The water felt nice- like silk. The bubbles smelled amazing, too, like lavender flowers.

More relaxed now, Amy thought about her dream.

She'd analyzed it a thousand times, but she could never understand it completely. There were many aspects of it that were certainly familiar, yes. Like the study room and the stained glass windows and Grace's chamomile tea, and her ever-present carved box, with the lovely poem on the top.

But Amy didn't understand her conversation with Grace.

It was just a dream, right? The whole Fountain-of-Youth thing was crazy, or bogus, as Dan might say. There couldn't be any truth to what Grace said in the dream. Amy interpreted it as just her stress making her think irrationally, or maybe, the warning of danger was what she should focus on. The Fountain of Youth thing could just be her mind filling in blanks where she didn't know exactly what she was in danger of.

She didn't feel very in danger at the moment.

Amy popped a bubble with a finger. The bubbles even seemed to be _tinted_ lavender...

After some more thinking, Amy made herself get out of the tub. (Which _was_ hard, because it was so nice. She wasn't used to that kind of extravagance. Her life was currently a lot of travelling, staying away from people who didn't mean well for her and staying away from Dan in the interest of keeping him safe.)

Amy consoled herself with the fact that now she could go and see the Westminster Abbey.

The thought really was thrilling, and she rushed through drying herself off and changing. She shoved some sneakers onto her feet and laced them up sloppily, then began rummaging through her suitcase to scrape up all the money she could find there. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"Amy?" Ian called. Amy paused.

"Come in," she called back. Ian opened the door and stepped inside, and Amy felt herself straighten up when she saw him. He carried himself so... Regally. It made her feel sloppy, especially taking into consideration that he was extremely good-looking, and she still had wet hair and had dressed herself in under a minute. "Hi," she said.

Ian smiled slightly at her. "Hello, Amy." His faint smile disappeared almost as quickly as it had come, his eyes resting on her current state. "Are you leaving?" He asked, a bit of worry creeping into his tone. "I promise, Natalie won't bother you anymore. Stay. Please."

Amy felt her cheeks turning pink. "I'm not leaving," she muttered. "I mean, I just wanted to go out. Sightseeing." She looked up and looked into his eyes. They flickered for a moment like fire, then returned to their usual reserved state. "For my studies."

She was still rolling with her lie of being a home schooler.

For a long minute, Ian said nothing. Then he said, "I'll take you wherever you need to go."

Amy smiled a bit of a goofy smile before she realized that she was. She wiped the smile off of her face, realizing that she'd need to deny his kindness. If she wanted to snoop around the Abbey, which was probably hard enough, it wouldn't help to have Ian there with her. He'd think she was a freak for wanting to inspect every inch of the building... Which probably meant a whole lot of inches that were off-limits to tourists. Come on, Amy, stop it, she chided herself. She had already started to like Ian too much. Any more and she would have to pick up and leave, and she had no where else to go. Sucking in a breath, she said,

"I don't need your help. I mean, that's really nice of you to offer. But don't you..." She didn't know what she was saying. She tried again. "I'm sure you're busy. It's fine, really." A sudden though popped into her head, and she asked, "Hey, why aren't you in school? And Natalie?" Ian raised an eyebrow at her, and Amy felt her cheeks growing warmer. "Sorry," she squeaked. "I don't mean to pry."

Ian just shrugged. "I've already graduated high school." He said simply. "Last year." His expression darkened slightly. "I can't really say why Natalie's out of school, though."

Amy felt her eyes widen in surprise. Ian had turned 16 _yesterday_. And he was already graduated from high school? "Wow," she commented, and it embarrassed her how impressed she sounded. But she _was_ impressed. A lot. "Are you going to go to college? Or university?"

Ian shrugged again. "I'm going to wait until I'm older," he confided. "At least until next year. Maybe if I go full time my mother will leave me alone." He sighed, looking down for a moment; then he looked up at her again. "So where are we going?" He crossed the room to stand closer to her.

"I told you, I can go by myself," Amy said, a bit of defiance creeping into her voice.

"You'll get lost," Ian insisted. "London is big, Miss America."

All of Amy's better arguments piled up at the back of her throat, but looking at Ian, she couldn't get the words out. She knew she shouldn't let him go with her- it would be more harm than help. Right? But Ian _did_ know the city. And he probably knew tourist-y places like the Abbey quite well. And he was rich...

Which might help her gain access into some otherwise blocked off areas.

Without giving it much more thought, an "Okay" had rolled off of Amy's tongue. Ian looked pleased, that faint, ghost-of-a-smile returning to his lips. Amy wondered why he hardly smiled. It did seem like his life wasn't... Well, as good as you'd expect it to be. But he still smiled so rarely, and Amy couldn't comprehend that. She herself had so little, and so she made an effort to smile a lot, even through sadness. Because if she didn't have hope, she had nothing.

Ian leaned in towards her for a moment, as if to get a closer look at her. Amy could feel his gaze on her, and it made her feel like electricity was running down her spine. He pulled away suddenly, but he still looked pleased. He turned away from her. "Let's go," he said.

Amy nodded, feeling almost dazed for a moment.

She followed Ian into the hall, wishing she didn't feel so embarrassingly attracted to him. She couldn't afford to be so distracted, especially over someone she should have no business in liking, anyway.

In the hallway, Ian took the lead, his long legs making him walk in long strides. Amy hurried to follow him, grabbing her bag on her way out of the room. But something caught her eye in the hallway- it was a piece of paper.

Stopping, Amy picked it up. It appeared to be the final piece of a letter, maybe? She guessed that because the first sentence seemed incomplete. It read:

-"_accompany me on a trip. There are certain... 'jobs'_ _you'll  
need to be taking over one of these_ _days, and the need for  
you to know how to do them is __growing greater. __I will arrive  
for you on Monday. Be ready to travel.  
__~Your dear mother, Isabel K._"

Amy stared, wondering what it was. Oh, she thought. It must be a paper Ian dropped yesterday...

It also must be what Ian was saying about leaving again. 'Isabel K'- that meant Isabel Kabra, Ian's mother and the famous charity organization creator. But Amy felt nervousness rising in her stomach. If Ian had to leave, then she couldn't stay here anymore... Monday was today.

Amy turned, intending to give the paper to Ian. He didn't seem 'ready to travel'. In fact, he kind of looked a little antsy, or on edge. Maybe he was leaving the mansion on purpose. Maybe he didn't want to see his mother. From what Amy understood, they really weren't so close, and Ian seemed to resent the things she made him do for her charity.

But before Amy could give Ian the paper, something made her stop. Before she even knew what she was doing, she'd shoved the paper into her pocket. She wanted to look at it again, later. When she had time to think a little more. She didn't exactly know why she wanted the paper, but she did.

_Isabel K._

For some reason, the name made Amy shudder.

_A/N_

_Tips for being a super sleuth and solving the mystery: Look for reoccurrences, like the ones in Amy's dream. No matter how unimportant something may seem, you might be surprised to see it worked into the plot later...__*Evil laughter for dramatic effect* _

_Please let me know how you liked the chapter! Please, please review. Thanks a TON._

_~Lovely_


	9. The Poets' Corner

_A/N_

_For reference, if you need a reminder- today is the second day. Remember, Amy and Ian are already starting to feel more than acquainted- they spent a good deal of time talking on the plane ride. They are already more than strangers to each other, and they know the basics of each other- but they are both curious to go beyond that and learn even more._

_Other news: I will be AWAY for the rest of the weekend. That means I can't update anything else. But never fear, the next update will be that of Partners Week! so just hang in there._

CHAPTER NINE: The Poets' Corner

**-Ian Kabra-**

The Westminster Abbey was something Ian had seen a thousand times.

As a regular Londoner, the building was a regular sight for him. He'd grown up seeing it outside his car window, though even he had to admit that it was still an impressive sight.

The old-style building was tall and looming, with it's place in the city near to the famous Big Ben. The Abbey had two tower-like structures that rose up on the sides. The rest of the huge building extended out behind the structures at the entrance with its old stone color. Amy's eyes were glued to the window, completely captivated at the sight.

Ian was struck with a sudden memory, from a long time ago. In truth, it felt more like it had never even happened, that it had been some kind of dream. Because he had remembered that he used to go on picnics here with Isabel and Natalie, and sometimes, even Vikram would join them. And that seemed so ridiculous now.

But that was the past, and the past, in Ian's opinion- or at the very least, his own past- was to be forgotten.

Ian's limo driver pulled up at the curb when Ian signaled him to stop. The driver knew the ropes; he didn't need Ian to tell him to simply wait here, so Ian didn't say a word to him. Instead, he turned to Amy and said, "Come on, let's go."

The very first destination Amy wanted to see was the Abbey, so that's where he'd taken her.

Amy was an odd sight to see. Just her general presence. Ian had changed his mind; it wasn't just the Kabra's mansion that she looked out of place in. He'd decided it was anywhere. She was always awkward, seeming eternally like she didn't want anyone to notice her, and therefore, she _always_ looked out of place. She sort of walked with her head down, and as Ian walked along with her, she tripped slightly on the curb as they dodged people.

Ian sighed, shaking his head at her clumsiness.

Americans.

The entrance fee was £8, and Ian just paid for the both of them without asking Amy for money. She hardly seemed to notice, her huge eyes taking everything in all at once. Against her chest she clutched her notebook and a pen, and book bag purse was slung over her shoulder.

"Come," he said calmly, almost having to drag her away from just the entrance. He wondered if this day was going to be ridiculously long and dragged out.

The Abbey was such a busy tourist spot that even on a Monday morning there were people around. Ian weaved through the crowd expertly, and behind him, Amy struggled to keep up. They were going through what Ian expected to be the most busy spot- the North Transept. That was pretty much just where everyone went inside, but Amy still seemed enchanted by even just this.

As they walked, Ian found he changed his mind- Amy didn't look out of place anymore. Somehow she fit right in, like this place could have been her home; with her overall enchanted-ness at this place, she seemed to lose her clumsiness, and Ian found that he could even call her graceful as her big green eyes took in all that was around them.

She caught him staring.

He hadn't even realized he'd been staring.

He covered himself as smoothly as usual, and he asked her, "Is there anyplace specific that you wanted to see?"

Amy smiled at him widely, letting out a breathy, almost dreamy sigh; "Everything." She said.

Ian smirked, amusement finding its way onto his features. "Well, it might take more than a day to see everything- but we can go in order of when everything opens and closes. They do things by sections here," he added in explanation. Amy nodded, and plucked a pamphlet off of a nearby rack. She looked at it for a moment in concentration.

"The Poets' Corner!" She said suddenly, excited. She very nearly was hopping up and down. "Oh, Ian, can we go see that first? I've always wanted to see that."

Ian really was becoming so amused by her enthusiasm. Literally right around the corner there was a group of high school teens on a field trip, and most of them looked bored out of their heads. But Amy Cahill had come here by choice, and she was now the most excited he had seen her yet.

"Of course." He said willingly. "If my memory is correct, we'll just go straight for a bit, and then we should reach it. Past the High Altar," he added, mentioning another famous spot within the abbey. Amy's eyes widened.

"Oh, but I want to see that, too." She said.

"We can see as much as time will allow," he promised her. Oddly enough, that line hadn't been rehearsed in his head- he found himself saying it and meaning it rather than saying it as an angle as he still tried to gain her trust as quickly as possible. That though rather disgusted him- he didn't want a friend, exactly. It had been so long since he'd had a friend... He forgot what that felt like. But for certain, he didn't want to start feeling dependent of anyone, not even Amy Cahill. He was just... She was just... He just wanted to figure her out. That was all.

Besides, some day- soon, maybe even- she'd be going back to America, where she belonged. And he'd be dragged off to some place or other by his mum.

Ian and Amy began walking straight across the way, headed for the Poets' Corner, which was a memorial type of place for poets. What made the Corner of interest to most people were the names there- there were many names of people that had been long forgotten. And the Poets' Corner was notorious for the fact that they hardly let poets in- even the great Shakespeare didn't get a monument in the Corner until 1740, years after his death.

That meant that the poets who seemed so unknown now had once been wildly popular- and yet, so little of these mysterious people had works left over for anyone to read. It prompted people visiting the Corner to wonder who those souls had been, and what they might have written.

He wondered suddenly if Edgar Allan Poe was in there. Edgar Allan Poe... He didn't think so. He'd studied Poe and an accomplishment like making it into the Poets' Corner had never come up in his studies. Then again, neither had the poem _A Dream Within A Dream_, which was extremely weird.

Ian slowed his pace down slightly, his strides much longer than Amy's. She smiled at him in thanks when he did so, and he felt something stirring inside of him. Whatever the feeling was, he pushed it away.

"I have to admit," Amy said, "-that I wasn't sure what it would be like to come here with you. I just assumed I'd go by myself, but it's kinda nice to be with someone... Especially since you seem to know the ropes."

She was still smiling, but he himself frowned, and he fished for information; "'Be with someone?'" He quoted her. "That makes it sound like you're often alone." He paused for a moment, stopping to look at her. She stopped too.

"Well... I don't see my brother anymore." She said carefully. "And I'd rather not talk about that. But... Otherwise, yeah, I'm home schooled, and my Aunt hates me. She doesn't really teach me- I teach myself." Amy said, her voice deliberate and her words thoughtful. Ian still could not shake the idea that she was a lying liar; that she was not a home schooler at all. But instead of saying anything of that sort, he replied,

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Amy just nodded, looking distracted for a moment.

Ian realized the group of teenagers had moved on a bit now. Their teacher droned on in a monotone at the head of their group, but the people in the back, as usually happens on field trips, were messing around and giggling like idiots. A boy shoved a girl and she shoved them back.

Ian looked at them disapprovingly. "Uncivilized people," he muttered. Amy laughed, and now it appeared it was her turn to be amused. He frowned at her. "What?"

She rolled her eyes, but not at all in the way that he sometimes did- she looked amused, still, and rather like she thought he was being silly. That rubbed him the wrong way a bit. She said to him, "They're just teenagers. I mean, they're having fun." Her eyes shone in a way that he found himself thinking was annoyingly attractive. Where is my head? He thought, disgusted with himself. She is nothing like you. She went on; "You seem to forget that you're a teenager, too." Her gaze and her voice turned wistful as she gazed on at the school group. "I definitely would pay attention, though, if I were them. Uhm, when you're home schooled, you don't go on so many field trips."

Ian just nodded, though he resented it when she said he forgot his own age. He did not. He was just not ridiculous, like those high school kids messing around.

Ian and Amy and had been standing there long enough for a few of the girls at the back of the group to notice them. One girl saw Ian and then hit her friend hard in the ribs- the second girl looked annoyed, but followed the first girl's gaze and her eyes landed on Ian and then very nearly popped out of their sockets.

Ugh, Ian thought. He was always one to judge people right away- and they looked like the annoying kind of girls who wore a ton of makeup to go along with their sweatpants, those girls that were clingy and posted on Facebook too much. A perk of being an early high school graduate himself was leaving so many insignificant people like those girls behind. (Even with the prestigious schools he'd went to in his life, there had been people like those girls.)

"I hate that," Ian muttered, and Amy looked confused for a moment. Not caring if they saw him openly scorning them, Ian nodded towards the girls, and he said, "When people stare like that."

They were staring at him because he was attractive. But from where those girls stood with their hungry eyes, they couldn't possibly know a thing about him- they didn't know who he was at all, only what he looked like. And if they DID know who he was from his mother's charity commercials, that was even worse. Then they knew even less of who he was.

One of the girls literally broke away from her group and marched towards them, throwing her hair over her shoulder. It was the first girl who had seen Ian, and she had long brown hair and light blue eyes lined with eyeliner. She smiled at Ian, showing off two rows of perfect, white teeth. She was pretty.

In an artificial way.

"Hi." The girl said, obviously a native Londoner like himself. "I'm Kaitlyn." She held out her hand so that he might shake it. He did no such thing, rudely brushing her off.

"Hi," he answered boredly.

Kaitlyn had not even looked at Amy once, and Amy stood awkwardly off to the side, unsure of if she should introduce herself. Ian was looking like he wanted to stab himself in the eye, surprisingly hating all of this attention from some random girl, and Amy finally said, "Hello, I'm Amy."

Kaitlyn frowned slightly, tearing her gaze away from Ian. In the background, Ian could see Kaitlyn's friend watching anxiously to see what would happen. "Hi," Kaitlyn said to Amy, but then she turned back to Ian, plastering a new smile on her face. "What's your name? Are you here on a field trip, too?" She laughed like this was actually something that could be laughed at.

"I'm not," he responded lightly, thinking that he and Amy were wasting time here. They had been going to see the Poets' Corner... "My name is Ian."

The girl was still smiling. In all honesty, she did seem kind of nice (well, to Ian, maybe not so much Amy), but he didn't care and he wanted to get a move on.

"I think you should get back to you group." Ian said, pointing. He took Amy's hand and pulled her away, not even bothering to say goodbye to miss Kaitlyn. Part of him expected her to run after him and ask for his number, as that had happened to him a lot more times than once, but she did not, and when he glanced back, she was walking rather dejectedly back to her school group, where she belonged anyway.

"Ian," Amy said in a scolding voice. "That wasn't very nice."

"Oh, please." Ian said, rolling his eyes. "It's not like she was nice to you."

"Still," Amy muttered.

Ian realized they had reached the Poets' Corner, and his hand was still holding Amy's. He didn't let go, but she did, looking embarrassed. She hurried to look at the first few memorials, her face slightly pink. Ian allowed himself to enjoy her discomfort for a moment; and then he directed his attention to his cell phone, which was on vibrate in his pocket and was, well, vibrating.

Ian pulled it out to see a text from his mother. Frowning even before he had read it, Ian clicked 'read message' and did just that.

**To: Ian K.**

**From: Isabel K.**

**Ian, I am very disappointed. You do not seem to be waiting at home as I have instructed. Natalie tells me you are out with your guest- may I ask why you think you have the authority to bring guests to my home? I don't know who this girl is, Ian. But I am not happy. I expect you home NOW, and I will be waiting for you in my office. When you return home you may tell your new friend that she is to leave immediately.**

**Regards, your mother**

Ian hardly ever had use for his phone- no one ever called, except sometimes Isabel or some fancy rich person who wanted to speak to Isabel, but she was always busy, so they had done their fishing and had found her son's phone number; but he had been expecting Isabel to call or text him, anyway.

This is bad, Ian thought, his hands tightening into fists. He slipped his phone back into his pocket. Yes, he'd known he was supposed to meet Isabel today. And he was supposed to be 'packed and ready' for whatever she might throw his way. But he didn't care anymore. He didn't want to do what she said.

But he had two options now; go home and face his annoyed mother, or stay here with Amy, and disregard his mother twice in a row?

It was almost suicidal to ignore her once, he thought. Or maybe she was in a good mood- that text actually hadn't been near as bad as some he'd received from her in the past. The obvious choice, the wiser choice, was that he should go home. He should go home, and be ready for his next trip, probably flying to some place like Africa for a photo shoot, posing with hired 'orphans'. He should go home and he should tell Amy Cahill that she could no longer stay.

But he wasn't going to.

"Sorry, mum," he whispered, looking at Amy, who was reading one of many memorials. He could not tell her to leave- he would make sure she could stay. Somehow. He... Needed her. No, he needed to _know_ about her. He corrected his thoughts with a sigh.

Pretending things were fine, Ian walked over to Amy and began reading memorials with her.

And he had no intention of going back home to Isabel- or at least, not until he and Amy were done with seeing the Westminster Abbey.

_A/N_

_I think I may change the story genre to Adventure rather than Mystery. I'm sorry if that is disappointing- there IS going to be more mystery in this, but I think the eventual adventure is going to outweigh that. So just assume for now that it's Adventure/Romance/Mystery xD_

_The next chapter will probably have Isabel... Oohhh. xD_

_Please review, thanks! :)_

_~Lovely_


	10. Enter: Isabel

_A/N_

_Thank you guys so much, readers and reviewers- especially reviewers ;) When you review and tell me what you liked and disliked, it helps me to become a better author and to write you all a better story. I hope you like this chapter, and I'm sorry about making you wait for it._

_The good news (and bad, if you'll consider it bad?) is that my other story, _Partners Week!_, is one chapter away from being complete. When that story is finished, I will turn my attention much more to this one, which means way quicker updates, I think :)_

CHAPTER TEN: Enter: Isabel

**~Amy Cahill~**

One half of Amy felt like laughing and spinning in a silly kind of happiness, and the other half of her wanted to throw up.

She didn't know what she'd expected to find at the abbey. But she'd been leaning towards something- towards _finding_ something, something that reminded her of Grace, or of her parents, who had died so long ago in that car crash. She'd been looking for a sign, something that might end her travels, something that might somehow send her safely home, able to live out a normal life with her brother. Even if that meant enduring her horrible Aunt Beatrice...

She had found nothing.

And yet the abbey was so beautiful. Everything about it- the architecture, the Poets' Corner, the very spirit of the place, as if you could feel the ghosts of old kings and queens walking about the place, keeping it a safe haven. Amy had just witnessed an amazing piece of history, something she'd long dreamed of seeing, that place that was the only destination written in Grace's journal...

It was only one trip there, Amy thought, forcing for hope when she had none. Though that thought did help to relax her- One trip, she thought. Did I think I was going to find something amazing when I barely know my way around the place?

Amy glanced at her watch. The sun was already going down in the sky, and true to his word, Ian had let her stay until the last part of the abbey closed. She had seen so much, so many beautiful things, but nothing that seemed to stand out to Amy. No big sign that would answer so many of her questions.

It frustrated her to know that she was in charge of so much, yet knew so little.

Grace called on you to be a leader, Amy reminded herself. Don't give up.

"We're here," Ian announced, and his limo had pulled up to the Kabra mansion again and through the opened gates, where they had been headed after the closing of the abbey. Amy was again awed at the sight of the great building, and the idea that there was a lavish room with all of her belongings in it already sounded so nice now to Amy. She thought she might want to take another bath- the first one this morning had been so lovely, and she wasn't used to this kind of standard of living.

I might as well enjoy it while I can, she thought.

"Thank you, Ian." Amy said, finding her voice. "I appreciate you taking me." Ian nodded, but he looked distracted, and as the limo pulled into a stop, Ian tensed up immensely. Amy frowned. "Are you okay?" She asked him.

Ian frowned. "Listen, Amy. Before we go inside... You should know something. My mother is home."

This information was not particularly new to Amy- she'd seen the part of a note from Isabel Kabra. In fact, it was in her pocket as they sat there. Amy swallowed, disliking the ominous look on Ian's face. It was hard to imagine Isabel the way Ian seemed to think of her- Amy had seen so much of the woman doing good in the world from the television screen. Or so it seemed.

"Do you need to spend time with her?" Amy asked, trying to keep her tone polite. "If you do, I understand. I know my way around the abbey now- I can go alone tomorrow." As soon as she'd said that she silently cursed herself. It would sound weird that she wanted to go back there- she and Ian had seen just about everything already today. She'd been hoping she could ditch Ian tomorrow and return there.

If Ian noticed her saying that, it didn't have an effect on him. He sighed, and when he spoke he sounded slightly annoyed. "No, Amy, I do not want to _spend time with her_." He rubbed his face, suddenly looking tired and confused. Amy frowned at the pin prickles in his tone, but she didn't respond. A few seconds passed silently, and then Ian said, "She sent me a text message earlier telling me she was here. To be honest, Amy, she found out that I've invited you to stay here as long as you like, and she isn't happy."

At his words 'to be honest' and from then onward, Amy's face drained of color. "Then I won't stay," she said, her voice quiet.

Ian looked alarmed. "No," he said. "You have to stay here." His face tightened and he looked angry, which was far from ow he'd been acting most of this day- pleasant enough in his sort of brisk, slightly cold manner. "My mother doesn't even have a reason for not wanting you here. We have a lot of space, Amy. You're not in the way."

Amy felt like a fire had started in her stomach at his persistence that she stay. The fire was warm, but like all fires, Amy knew that if the flame got too big, she'd get burned.

She swallowed again. "I can't stay if your mother says I can't."

Ian's face tightened again for a moment, but then he simply nodded, his face becoming emotionless once more. He stepped out of the car and Amy followed his example.

Isabel Kabra was waiting for them when they opened the front door.

Amy could not help but gasp at the sight of Ian's mother. Amy had seen her face a few times on advertisements, and she'd suspected she would be beautiful, anyway. But Isabel seemed to push the boundaries of beauty and go beyond them- she was the most gorgeous woman that Amy had ever seen.

Isabel was tall, and it was easy to see how she was related to her son. Ian seemed to have inherited her dark hair and dark, mysterious eyes. Isabel appeared to be wearing makeup, but it was all minimal besides bright red lipstick on her perfectly shaped lips. Her hair was black and glossy, and it fell in slight waves past her shoulders.

She stood poised and elegantly, her arms crossed over her chest, and Amy felt her initial awe become replaced by a cold tidal wave of fear. Isabel's eyes had looked inviting on a magazine page- but in real life, no matter how exquisite they were, they were hard and appeared angry.

However, the woman's eyes did not fall on Amy. Isabel looked only to her son, her mouth twisting downwards in a slight frown.

"Ian." She acknowledged.

Ian crossed his arms, too, and the resemblance between the stance and the mannerisms of the two was striking to Amy. She swallowed, stepping backwards a bit until her back brushed against the door that she'd entered from. This was not her business. Should she leave? Go to another room until she could pack her things and leave?

"Mother." Ian responded, his tone the hardest Amy had ever heard it. Surprise registered on her face. Ian had seemed prickly to her, yes, but not so completely... Cold. But that seemed to be yet another trait he'd gotten from his mother. Amy's stomach churned at the scene- it made her feel sad. There didn't seem to be any love at all between Ian and Isabel. Amy kept her head down, edging even farther away.

It seemed like Ian and Isabel were communicating without words, their eyes held in a silent showdown. Finally, Isabel spoke again, and Amy could see flashes of her perfect white teeth as she spoke.

"Ian, please take your guest to her room. And then you and I will have a nice little chat in my office, where you were, consequently, supposed to meet me hours ago." Isabel's tone sent shivers down Amy's spine. There was just something in her voice that almost didn't seem human.

Ian said nothing, but he took a step back, and Amy felt his shoulder brush hers. Ian gestured that they should head for the staircase, and he said quietly, "Let's go."

Amy was all to glad to leave Isabel and her scarily imposing presence behind.

When they had reached the door to Amy's room, Amy felt like she could finally breath.

"My mother is..." Ian started, but he didn't finish the sentence. His face twisted into a deep frown. "Don't worry, Amy. You won't really have to leave." Amy wanted to argue with him, but she couldn't get any words to come out of her throat. She nodded numbly, and Ian added, "Just... Stay here until I come back for you, alright?"

Amy nodded again, and Ian shot off like an arrow, covering ground quickly in his long strides.

Amy hurried to enter her room and let as much information as she possibly could flow from her mind to the pages of her journal. She'd taken some notes while she was there, but she hadn't wanted Ian to see her take too many notes. It would just seem like she had a weird obsession with the abbey or something.

It doesn't matter what Ian thinks, Amy thought, deflating. His mother looked so angry... I really don't know that I can stay here. Despite what Ian had said, Amy began repacking her bags, which was easy to do since she didn't have much stuff.

And even easier because she had done this so many times- just picked up from a place and left it.

_A/N_

_I hope you liked it :)_

_Now, I will begin my questioning- for those of you who read Partners Week! this is old news to ya. But if you haven't, all you need to know is basically that I ask 4 questions (some related to the story and some completely random) and you can answer them, if you like, in your review :)_

_1) Do you want Vikram in this story? (I kind of really do. xD)_

_2) What Cahill branch are you? (I'm a JANUS, I think.)_

_3) What color is your shirt? (Mine is coral! xD)_

_4) Should I finally let you guys know a bit more about Amy in the next chapter? (MWAHAHA)_

_Please review :)_

_Ciao!_

_~Lovely_


	11. Wrong

_A/N_

_*Trumpet noises* News!_

_My story_ Partners Week!_ is now officially complete. That means that I will be turning my attention over to this story. I really hope that means faster updates. xD_

_Also, since I switch from Ian and Amy's POVs (or focuses, as I call it), I forgot last time that it was Amy's POV. Thus, this update would be Ian's- and I was talking about letting you all in on some of Amy's secrets... __That means that you'll have to hold on just a WEE bit longer to find out about Amy. AKA, the next update. I'm so sorry, I forgot about that. But this chapter is still an important one..._

_(THEY ARE ALL IMPORTANT xD)_

_Credit now to my dear buddy _**The Gone Angel vs Slenderman**_. She helped me a bunch with the plot line of this, and came up with a few ideas. Thanks, Gone! Also, Gone has a cool contest going right now- she needs entrants, so check that out on her profile._

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Wrong

**-Ian Kabra-**

Isabel was not happy.

That seemed like an understatement- she was furious, actually, and Ian found it hard not to flinch under her stern gaze. He would never understand how this could possibly be the same woman who had been his mother so many years ago. But she _was_ the same woman- the difference was that now he barely considered her a mother at all.

Isabel sat behind her desk. Her nails lightly tapped against the polished surface of the wood, and she said calmly, "Why don't you sit down?"

Ian stiffened for a moment, feeling like he should defy her. This one, simple act- surely he could remain standing with his dignity? But when he looked into Isabel's eyes, he cursed silently, knowing that, in the long run, he would always do just what she told him to. Or at least mostly- he'd already defied her today by not returning home when he had been instructed to. And he was certain now that he was going to pay for that.

Ian sat down.

"Ian, you knew that I was coming. I had a trip planned for us- but your lack of instructional following and your little _guest_ seem to have put things on hold." Isabel's voice was eerily calm, and she leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving her son's. She waited a moment, and when Ian said nothing, she added, "Why did you disobey me?" For a nanosecond, Ian imagined that she looked older- more troubled. But he was certain a moment later that he had imagined it, because Isabel's face was back to its young, tight, angry look.

"I was in the middle of something," he said, unable to keep poisonous anger from seeping into his tone. He was going to regret this so much- Isabel wouldn't appreciate his tone. Or his bitterness towards her...

"Surely you don't think some girl is more important than the family business." Isabel's tone was all ice, and her eyes were narrowed, dangerous.

Ian felt his blood boiling. "She's not," he snapped. "Or maybe she is- the 'family business'? What, do you mean that thing you do where you steal other people's money and use it for your own benefit? Yes. I think _she_ is more important than that." Anything was more important to him than Isabel's charity. "And her name is Amy."

Isabel didn't give the name a second thought, waving it away like it was a simple annoyance. Her expression hardened. "You've never complained before about the way we live." She said quietly, her voice brittle. Her eyes swept once over the room, and Ian could feel his hands turning to fists beneath the desk.

She was right.

"Mum," Ian said quietly, "-just tell me now, please. About the trip." He slumped back in his chair. Dropping his good posture or good manners in front of his mother also probably wasn't a good idea, but Isabel seemed rather distracted, and Ian had a headache. He rubbed his face. As much as he didn't want to say the words, they fell out of his mouth anyway, drawn out by the very commanding presence of Isabel; "I'm sorry that I wasn't on time."

Isabel froze for a moment, but then she folder her hands in a businesslike fashion. She nodded. "Thank you, darling," she said, and Ian was shocked to hear her use the term 'darling'. The last time she'd said that to him in person had probably been well over a year ago, and there had been a nasty scowl on her face when she had done so, mad because of something that had to do with her charity and not even Ian... "So." Isabel said suddenly. She re-fixated her eyes on Ian. "We will deal with your guest later. For now, I have a lot to tell you, Ian- and your sister."

Ian straightened in his chair a bit. "Should I get Natalie and bring her here?"

"No, not right now." Isabel responded, sounding slightly impatient. "For now, just listen. I have plenty to tell you." She waited until her son nodded, and when he did, she went on. "Do you know the myth," Isabel said, tapping her perfectly manicured fingernails against the surface of the desktop, "-of the fountain of youth?"

Ian nodded, but there was a small frown on his face. What was this supposed to be? Wasn't Isabel just planning some trip for him and herself to go on? She'd probably make it sound extravagant like Ian would be some place fabulous, like it'd hardly be work at all.

But in reality, she'd dump him some place to shoot a stupid commercial, doing take after take because no matter how convincing he was, it was apparently never convincing enough- and when it came time to go home, he'd be dumped on a coach class plane ride.

"Yes." Ian said aloud. "I know the myth."

Isabel flicked a lock of dark hair over her shoulder. "Good." She said. She leaned over for a moment, reaching for something under the desk. When she straightened up, she was holding a small golden box. Ian didn't recall seeing it before, but it didn't seem abnormal to him- probably just something his mother had bought because it costed a lot of money. "I am about to show you," Isabel declared confidently, "-one of the greatest secrets this world has ever hidden."

Ian frowned obviously. He was confused. This was not what he had been expecting.

This was not about traveling to some poster or commercial shoot.

Isabel did not make jokes. So what was she trying to do right now? Why was she talking about something as bizarre as the myth of eternal youth?

Isabel's perfectly manicured fingers lifted the latch on the golden box. Ian was confused when he saw another box inside of it- but this one with a lock. Isabel turned her charm bracelet over on her wrist- she always wore her charm bracelet- and selected a charm. It was a little gold key.

And, of course, it fit into the lock.

Ian watched as Isabel opened the second box and turned it to show her son the contents. Inside the second box, which was lined in puffy velvet, sat a single glass syringe, filled with a liquid that looked like melted silver. Ian's heartbeat quickened in his chest, confusion hitting hard. He didn't understand Isabel's actions, or what was inside of the syringe. Ian looked up and met his mother's eyes, and he couldn't help but flinch, her eyes looking selfish and hard.

He didn't like the way she looked at the syringe.

"What is that?" Ian forced out, surprised to find that he felt flat out horrified. He didn't know what was going on, but he didn't like it. Natalie's words from the day before came to mind- his sister had tried to tell him that Isabel was different now. Worse, Natalie had said.

_I think something is wrong with her. Really wrong._

Ian's skin was crawling- Natalie had been right. Isabel had been selfish and cruel before, but now there was something in her eyes that made him want to actually get away from her. He watched, feeling disgusted, for some reason, as Isabel lifted the syringe out of the box so gingerly that he wondered if she thought it would shatter at merely a touch.

The contents swirled and separated slightly, a clearness settling atop the murky silver color. Isabel finally answered her son, glancing at him, still holding the syringe. "This," she said, "-is a miracle." Her mouth stretched into a smile. Isabel was beautiful- but in a terribly cold way. Ian suddenly felt icy himself as he pictured himself many years ago, around age 5 or 6, running into Isabel's arms for a hug. "I call it sancsylline."

"What does it do?" Ian asked, his voice sounding oddly choked.

"Watch." Isabel extended her hand towards Ian, and turned it so that it was palm-up. Ian didn't know what the contents of the syringe was supposed to be- sancsylline was not a word he'd ever heard- but his eyes widened in alarm as he watched Isabel give the glass tube a gentle shake, then slid the needle into her skin.

Isabel let the liquid drain into her until half of it was gone. Then she stopped, drawing the needle back out of her skin, a pinprick of blood and silver liquid left behind on her skin.

"What did you just do?" Ian asked, his throat feeling constricted. This was so out of the ordinary that he wondered if this was some sick joke. Isabel didn't joke- ever- but how could this be real?

Or maybe he was dreaming.

Isabel's eyes closed for a moment, and Ian felt horror grip him when he imagined that whatever Isabel had just injected into her bloodstream was poisonous. But Isabel's eyes flickered open, and she turned her hand so that the palm was downwards, and she shoved her hand closer to his face. "Look!" She yelled at him, and the urgency in her voice nearly shattered his eardrums.

Ian stared at her hand, and he did not believe what he saw.

Isabel's hands were nearly perfect already. But there were some lines forming there, some _wrinkles_, dare he even think the word in her presence- but he swore that while he watched her hand, the few lines that were there began to smooth out, until her hand was as close to perfect as was probably humanly possible.

"What the..." Ian started, but he didn't even finish the sentence.

Isabel rested her hand against the table, and Ian still stared at it. She brought her other hand up next to it, and Ian knew he wasn't crazy- her left hand, which she'd injected that God-knew-what-it-was stuff into, was smoother, younger looking, than her right hand.

"I call it sancsylline," Isabel Kabra repeated. "Once it works itself through my bloodstream completely, I'll look overall younger." She leaned back in her seat again, and then she reached for a tall cup she had sitting close to her, and she stirred the contents- iced coffee. She looked nonchalant, waiting for Ian to react. He didn't know what he was supposed to say or do. Was this supposed to be like some new alternative to getting plastic surgery?

Was this some drug that she'd paid millions for?

"What?" Was all Ian could manage, his tongue tied in knots, his eyes still glued to her hand.

Isabel smiled her cold smile. "The family business," she said, which didn't really help to clear anything up.

_A/N_

_Have you read Day of Doom yet?_

_HERE'S THE DEAL: If you have, PLEASE do NOT. NOT. _**NOT**_. Give me any spoilers. Okay? I am getting it tomorrow. I read all reviews, and I really don't want spoilers. I'm freaking out about it enough already. Thanks._

_In case you were wondering, this is how I pronounce sancsylline: Sank-sill-in. It's not a real word. I made it up. xD xD_

_1) How d'ya like Isabel in this story thus far? xD_

_2) What was the last thing you ate?_

_3) Hot coffee, iced coffee, or none? xD_

_4) What is next to you right now, to your right? (For me it's a box of mint medley tea... xD)_

_~Lovely_


	12. Interesting Phone Call

_A/N_

_I read Day of Doom._

_If you want to see my thoughts and opinions on it big time, go check out _**The Gone Angel vs Slenderman's forum**_, The 39 Clues Elimination. On the chat thread, I've been pouring my soul out..._

_If you have not read the book, I seriously suggest that you do not. If you've already read it, you understand my pain. If you've not yet, here's what you're missing: Bad writing and complete changes in all of your favorite characters. Also deaths that weren't mourned properly at all..._

_In short, I hated the book. I really, honestly hated it. It sucked. So badly. I would definitely rank it as one of THE worst books I've ever read... I legitimately felt like I was reading bad FanFiction. Someone please save me... *Heaving sigh* *Please not this is my opinion, and also me in a bad mood, so*_

_Anyways, on wards, and I really appreciate you reviewers._

CHAPTER TWELVE: Interesting Phone Call

**~Amy Cahill~**

She was all packed.

It had only taken Amy a moment to collect her things. She was ready now. She could leave right when Ian came back to tell her that she had to, because his mother wouldn't allow guests that she hadn't invited herself, or whatever.

Amy felt her chest ache right in the place where her heart was. What did you think? She thought, trying to be forceful, trying to get herself back into gear. That you'd stay for a long time? Have an actual home? Sadness welled up inside of Amy when she thought that. She wasn't sure that she'd ever have a home again.

She was sprawled out on the bed in her room, and she stroked the soft, cushiony comforter, feeling completely disappointed that she'd only gotten to sleep in it once. She hoped that, maybe, she'd be allowed to sleep in it for tonight, too- and then leave first thing in the morning. Maybe Ian could get Mrs. Isabel Kabra to allow that... but when Amy thought of the cold look on Isabel's face, she shivered, and thought that yes, she would only sleep in this bed once.

A sudden noise, a ringing, sounded off and Amy sat up, startled. It's my cell phone! She realized, completely surprised. She never used her phone. Ever. Except in severe emergencies- it was safer not to use the phone. There were people out there that were crazy enough to try and track her...

...Nevertheless, she was so unused to her phone ringing that it took a moment for it to register in her mind. Amy stumbled off of the bed, opening her bag and digging through it for the phone that she'd quickly thrown in the bag before in an attempt to have everything ready to go.

Her heart pounded. "It's a wrong number," she whispered, hoping it was true. Because who else could it be?

She dreaded the thoughts that came to mind after thinking of that question.

Maybe, for some reason, it was Ian- he had her phone number now. He'd insisted she give it to him... Amy finally found her phone and her heart leaped in her chest. She clawed the phone out of it's place in the bag, where it had been jammed into a corner, beneath an old book of hers- and when she saw the screen, it made her more nervous.

Unknown number.

Amy's hand shook as she took the ringing phone back to her bed and sat down. Do I answer it? She wondered. Was that safe?

Amy took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't regret what she was about to do.

She pressed 'answer'.

"H-h-hello?" She said into the phone. Her voice was shaking. The last time she'd answered the phone- and it had been a different one than this- things hadn't gone so well, and she'd thrown the cell at the wall so that the tracker that had been initiated when she answered it would go out of commission.

She prayed silently that she wasn't making the same mistake this time by answering the call.

But what if someone important was on the other end of the line?

For a long 20 seconds, there was no sound from the caller's side. Amy wanted to scream, fears building in the back of her throat. "H-hello?" She repeated. "Y-you might have the wrong number." She hated the way her voice was shaking, but there was nothing she could do. Her hands were sweaty as she gripped the phone.

When the caller finally spoke, Amy felt like someone had hit her in the chest with a golf club.

"Amy?" Dan Cahill said. "Is it really you?"

"D-dan!" Amy burst, surprise making her eyes go wide. She nearly fell over, she was so surprised. She rearranged herself on the bed, trying to remember how to breath.

How had Dan gotten her number?

This was bad. This was so bad. If Dan had her number, then he might not be safe. He might be in trouble, he might need her to call the police- but oh, the sound of his voice. She hadn't seen him for a year. Hadn't heard him for a year. He was all she had, and yet, he was so far away- everyday when she woke up, he was the first person she thought of. "How did you get this number?!" Amy exploded, easily slipping back into the role of big sister. "Are you alright?!"

"I'm FINE, Amy, sheesh." Dan said. She could imagine him rolling his eyes at her, and tears began streaking down her cheeks. She bit her lip, trying not to start yelling again, trying to give Dan a moment to speak. "Where are you?" Dan said, his tone demanding. "When are you coming home?"

It didn't matter that Dan wasn't some creepy person trying to track her- she still felt like throwing her phone at the wall and watching it break into a million pieces. It would be better. She would get a new phone. And Dan wouldn't know her new number.

But she couldn't do it.

"Home?" Amy squeaked, unable to hang up on the last real family she had left.

"Yes!" Dan said. She could hear his utter annoyance. And maybe a little bit of sadness, too. "I hate Aunt Beatrice, Amy. I hate her. Come back, I can't live with her anymore! And I... miss you." Dan said glumly. "It totally sucks. A lot. It's really sucky."

Amy laughed slightly, sniffling. Dan must have missed her an awful lot to actually say that he missed her aloud. "Dan. I don't k-know how you got this number. But please. Please just..." Just what? Amy tried to compose herself before she said another word. But Dan missed her, and she missed him, more than anything in the world, and it still felt hard to breath. After a moment passed, she said, "I need to know how you got this number, Dan. Please." At her words, Dan said nothing, but she heard a bit of scuffling coming from his end, and she asked sharply, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Dan replied quickly. "But... you aren't going to like where I got your number from..."

"Where?" Amy demanded. "Dan, you dweeb- tell me NOW." It felt really good to call him dweeb.

"Okay, okay!" Dan said hurriedly. "I got it from Erasmus."

Amy's jaw dropped. "_ERASMUS?!_" She shrieked. "_He_ gave you the number?!" Amy unsuccessfully tried to choke back more tears. She had never guessed that Erasmus would do something like that. Yes, he was sympathetic of the fact that Amy and Dan had to be split apart- but surely he knew it was for the best? He'd _agreed_ with her that they should be. Hadn't he? But that sounded so out of character for him... Dan must have managed to weasel the information out of Erasmus, then?

"Okay, he technically didn't GIVE it to me." Dan muttered. His words were almost inaudible, he sounded so sulky. "I kind of stole it."

Amy felt equal parts relief and anger filling up her insides. At least she knew she could still trust Erasmus. She sighed, trying to remain patient. "How, Dan?"

"Erasmus came to 'check up on me'. And when he wasn't looking, I took the number." Dan said. Before Amy could yell at him, he added on, "But don't you think you're taking this too far, Amy? Running away from home?" There was a short pause here. "I want answers. You never tell me anything. I barely know why you're gone or who Erasmus is- I know he's not just a guy that used to work with dad. He has, like, these laser eyes. And I swear they can see into your soul-"

"Dan, I can't tell you anything. It's for your safety."

"I AM safe!" Dan yelled back at her. "I'm as SAFE as I possibly could be. And it's boring. I can't stand staying here anymore. Not without you. Sometimes I remember stuff about mom and dad, Amy- and I remember tons about Grace. Our mom and dad, Grace- they never treated us the way Aunt Beatrice does. Yeah, I lit the curtains on fire. But it was an ACCIDENT. And YOU weren't here to convince Aunt Beatrice to lighten my punishment to only 1 week with no video games, not 3!" Dan sounded angry now, and Amy could hear hurt radiating around his voice. Amy wished she was _with_ him.

Amy sighed slightly. "Aunt Beatrice is tough, Dan. But she's keeping you safe."

"Safe?" Dan scoffed. "I deserve answers, Amy. It's been a whole year since you left, and I'm starting to think you joined a cult or something."

"What?" Amy said, confused. She sighed again. "You know what, Dan? Never mind." Amy pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. She took a deep breath, making a choice in her head- because Dan was right. He deserved to know. "Okay, Dan. I'm going to tell you everything." Amy's stomach twisted, because that was a lie. She herself didn't know everything, and she wasn't even going to tell Dan everything that she _did_ know... "Swear you won't ever tell what I tell you to anyone. Not even Aunt Beatrice."

"Ew, like I talk to her. I swear I won't."

"Okay..." Amy collected her thoughts, and started from the beginning. "You know how mom was a scientist, Dan? Well, she wasn't a normal scientist."

"Was she a MAD scientist?"

"_No_, Dan. Don't joke, please."

"...sorry."

"...mom and Grace used to do a lot of work together. They were working in the field of medicine- but they were both such smart people, Dan. They helped a lot of people. The thing is, there were people against what mom and Grace were doing. I think they wanted the medicine to themselves, to make a profit." Amy's head throbbed, a lovely headache boiling behind her skull. "I don't know everything," she added. "But I know that mom and Grace's research was really, really important. Whatever they did, there were people after them."

Amy had prayed in her head that Dan wouldn't think this was some kind of a game. But her heart dropped in her chest when she heard him murmur,

"Woah... awesome."

"It's not," Amy snapped. "It's really, really serious, Dan. Don't you want to know why I had to leave?"

"Yes." Dan said quietly, instantly shut up by her words. Amy felt bad doing that to him, but he wouldn't listen otherwise, he'd keep making things a joke- and she was still in shock that he'd called her at all. "To protect me," Dan sound sourly, his voice sounding slightly crackly over the phone.

"Yes, Dan. To protect you." The tricky part was coming up. The part that was hard to explain. Or even harder to explain, she supposed, than all of the other stuff she'd already said. Amy sighed for what felt like the millionth time. "There are people out there who are after me. I don't exactly know why- all I know is that it started happening around Grace's death." A lump formed in Amy's throat, as it always did at the mention of her grandmother's passing away. "I left, Dan. Because they were after me. They aren't after you, thank God- but by sticking around, you wouldn't be safe-"

"That's ridiculous!" Dan shouted over the phone, sounding shocked. "You should have stayed right here, Amy. If there are bad guys after you, so what? We could have kicked their butts TOGETHER."

Amy's head throbbed. "Please, Dan. I left because I had to. I never stay in one place anymore, and I never involve the police." Amy bit her lip. That was something she couldn't explain to Dan- she didn't want him to know too much. If he did, the people after her just might go after her little brother after all.

"...I just don't get it. Why can't you tell me everything?"

Dan sounded disappointed, and it hurt Amy. And clearly, he had seen through her, even just over the phone- he knew she was holding back information. "I'll tell you one last thing, okay?" Amy said. "Erasmus was mom's friend, not dad's. He worked with mom and Grace a lot of years ago. In the lab. Grace told him to take care of us." Amy was glad to hear that Erasmus had checked up on Dan, but she didn't mention that she hadn't seen him herself for almost half a year.

"Okay." Dan said.

Amy felt her eyes welling up with tears again. "I'm doing my best." She said softly. "I don't know what I have to do- but I'm going to figure everything out. And one day, I'll come... home." For a long moment, Dan said nothing, and Amy added on, trying not to let him know she was crying, "You can't call me anymore. Unless it's a real emergency. A _real_ one."

"What do you mean I can't call you?!" Dan said.

"If you do," Amy threatened, "I'll get a new phone and leave this one in a ditch somewhere. And then you'll have no way of calling me at all. I can promise you that you won't be getting any more phone numbers from Erasmus."

"Fine!" Dan snapped. For a terrifying moment, Amy was certain that he'd hang up, and after not speaking to him for so long, their conversation would end on a bad note. But she relaxed when Dan said, finally, "Be safe, Amy. I guess. And come home soon."

"I'll try," she promised. "I love you."

"...love ya too."

Amy hung up, her heart pounding like crazy in her chest.

She'd just talked to Dan, when there had been recent points in her life when she'd been sure she would never hear his voice again.

_A/N_

_So now you know more about Amy- her mother, Grace, and Erasmus were all scientists trying to make medical breakthroughs..._

_But there's so much more for you all to learn. *Gleeful laugh*_

_1) Do you have any posters? (I just got a new one. It's for Regular Show.)_

_2) Do you have any philosophies in life? :D (Mine depend on my mood. But in general I like to say Live Life Loud is my motto- interpret that as you will.)_

_3) When you were a kid, did you play with toy cars?_

_4) Does Lovely SOS ever freak you out?_

_Ciao, my darlin' readers. Please review, it means a lot to me. :)_

_~Lovely_


	13. Recognition

_A/N_

_I'm so sorry, guys._

_I don't usually get writers block- but I apparently did. *sigh* I am not immune, as I had hoped._

_In other news, I have posted a one-shot about Evan Tolliver called 'Meaning of Love'. I really hope you guys will give the one-shot a chance, despite the fact that it's about Evan. (Don't lie to me. You know he isn't exactly a fan favorite.)_

_I hope you like this chapter- I worked hard to get over the stupid writers block. I am also very busy right now- like, really. Lol. I should be back to updating more and writing more and all soon after Easter._

_Thank you SO MUCH, reviewers._

CHAPTER LUCKY THIRTEEN: Recognition

**-Ian Kabra-**

When Ian woke up from sunlight streaming through his bedroom windows, he did not feel very refreshed. At all.

Thoughts flooded his mind, and he remembered yesterday's events. The abbey with Amy Cahill- and seeing his mother waiting for him at home.

With her weird scientific drug that she called 'the family business'.

Ian shuddered at that thought, climbing out of his bed. It was apparently 8:08 AM, and even though he'd awoken moments before to sunlight streaming into his room in radiant beams, which had landed directly on his closed eyelids (a result of forgetting to close the blinds), Ian watched as the sky outside turn to gray. And rain began to fall. Ian dragged himself to his bathroom, grumbling, and he splashed water on his face in an attempt to wake himself up.

He'd started his shower when he realized something.

Isabel had told him that Amy couldn't stay here.

Ian felt his blood turn to ice, and he hurried to turn off the shower. He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday- which he'd fallen asleep in last night- but they would have to do for a while. Ian walked quickly out of the bathroom, heading for Amy's room. Things were not going so well, it seemed- not at all according to his plan.

Though, that was debatable. What _was_ his plan? Amy was some girl he'd met a few days ago. He constantly turned back to that thought- that he still couldn't be sure exactly as to who she was, even if he'd spent two entire days with her- but then he always turned to another thought, too. That maybe that was just the thing- that he really _couldn't_ be sure of who she was. She was unreadable.

And he couldn't bear the thought of her leaving.

Not yet.

Curiosity clawed at him. He wanted to know who she was. And though Ian wasn't exactly one to believe in things like fate, it seemed that at every turn, there was some reason that this Amy Cahill shouldn't stay here, that she should be leaving... but he would not let her go easily at all, 'fate' or not.

Assuming Isabel hadn't taken it upon herself to personally throw Amy out already.

No, Ian thought, his teeth gritted together tightly. Isabel had said they would talk about his guest later. And last night, they hadn't even finished discussing her freaky syringe-liquid- Isabel had been completely annoyed to be interrupted by a business call, but it had been incredibly important, she said- and it had cut her meeting with Ian short.

Ian hadn't slept easily after witnessing what he had. It was too strange.

But he found that he didn't want to think about that right now, and he pushed those thoughts to the farthest corner of his mind.

Ian reached Amy's door, and he knocked. He realized about half a second later that his knocking was extremely loud- and that was because, he realized, he was anxious. And then he was disgusted with himself, disliking the idea of any other person leading him to feel that way.

Anxious.

Ian's hand dropped and he straightened his posture- not that it had been bad a moment before, but now he was standing quite stiffly- and he waited. There was no response for a moment, and Ian felt angry. Had his mother really had the audacity to come and make Amy leave? Would she do that?

But then Amy opened her door, and he was immensely relieved to see her.

"Amy," he greeted her, and she looked confused for a moment. He realized that he must have woken her up, and he was surprised to find that that made him feel ever so slightly... embarrassed. And Ian didn't _do_ embarrassment. Amy was wearing some hideous old t-shirt. It was clear to Ian that she didn't wear nice clothes to sleep in, either.

"Did I oversleep?" Amy murmured, blinking. Then her eyes widened, her cheeks beginning to turn pink. "I'm sorry-" she began, but Ian cut her off.

"You're fine," he assured her quickly. He frowned quite evidently. "I suppose I should apologize for waking you up." He paused for a moment. "...sorry." God, he thought. Apologizing left a foul taste in his mouth every time he did it, though he seemed to be apologizing to Amy Cahill quite a bit in these recent times as he tried to earn her trust.

Amy's eyes widened even more. "Is this about leaving?" She asked in that quiet voice of hers. "Because I'm ready, Ian. I'm all packed. I can just leave if-"

"For the _last_ time, Amy, I'm not allowing you to leave." Ian cut her off a second time, a scoff in his voice. Ian remembered again that he was still wearing his clothes from the day before, and he found that he sincerely hoped that Amy wouldn't notice. "And I swear to God, Amy, you'd better make this the last time I have to... _beg_ you to stay." Ian's mouth twisted downwards in a huge scowl, disliking his choice of words once he'd said them. Amy's face turned even more pink.

"B-but your mother-"

"Not a problem." Ian said. He seemed to be in a cut-off-all-of-Amy-Cahill's-sentences kind of mood. He waved her words off. "Dress for breakfast, please." He looked down at her outfit, unable to hide_ all_ of his disdain, though he did his best. "I'll meet you downstairs in a bit."

Amy looked hesitant, but then she nodded. Her stiff shoulders slumped, and she looked outwardly relieved. "Alright, Ian." She murmured, and he felt a rush of satisfaction at how relieved she looked to be able to stay here. But then he thought maybe that was because she didn't have any money, or any relatives to stay with- and so he told himself that he would need to try _much_ harder to gain her trust as a friend.

Much harder.

And it wasn't at all, he thought rather forcefully, because of the fact that despite her hideous clothing, her green eyes looked even more green every time he looked at her. And they were pretty enough for him to want to stop and admire them.

But she's not normal, he decided, looking at her and feeling distrust uncurling in his stomach.

He just needed to know who she was. And once he found out and his curiosity- and it was only natural to be curious about such a secretive person- was satiated, he would have no problem with getting rid of Amy Cahill, just as his mother wanted him to. He would probably find out that Amy was some normal, average American girl. And she'd probably turn out to be crazy, just like most Americans seemed to be. Amy was probably putting on an act, trying to get close to the almost-famous Ian Kabra.

Something like that.

But Ian knew that wasn't true at all. It sounded incredibly far fetched- a girl like Amy? No. He decided that was what he would tell himself for now, though.

He was mistrustful of her because she was different. But he wanted to know why. And he couldn't help but feel like getting involved with this strange girl was a somehow dangerous idea...

Amy looked like she was going to say something in response to Ian telling her to meet him downstairs for breakfast, but then she closed her mouth and instead just looked thoughtful. An idea struck itself up in Ian's mind.

"Amy," Ian said suddenly, "After breakfast, I'm taking you to see London." The idea really had just popped up into his head- all Amy had seen of this great city was the abbey, which, albeit impressive, was only a small bit of the country Ian called home. "Raining or not." He added. "So make sure you are... ready." Without waiting for a response, he disappeared, calling out, "I'll meet you at the bottom of the steps. Don't make me wait too long."

Ian waited diligently at the bottom of the stairway, straight-backed and expressionless. His head was already a whirring action of cogs in his mind, making a mental list of the places he needed to take Amy, and hoping that for once, it wouldn't rain throughout the entire day. Ian waited, a few minutes ticking by. With a sigh, he sat down, his fingers drumming against his leg, wondering what Amy was doing.

And then she came down the steps, and he stood up again.

She was wearing a purple t-shirt and jeans, and carrying a bag slung over her shoulder. She smiled at him, and his stomach flipped. He frowned, wondering if he might be sick.

_Finally_, he wanted to say, You took long enough. But he didn't say that, and instead, he said, "Let's go." He surprised her by taking her by the arm, feeling a twinge of satisfaction when the action made her blush. See? He thought to himself. I'm already winning her over... he stepped out into the wide hallway, taking her towards the dining hall.

A shadow stepped across their path.

Isabel Kabra stood in front of her son and his guest, looking poised and beautiful as ever, but also somehow like a snake about to strike. Amy stiffened obviously at Isabel's presence, as many did when a woman so imposing and impressive stepped into their sight line. Ian gave her a cautious nod, but his eyes strayed towards her hands, which looked so young and healthy.

Well, all of her did.

"Good morning, mother." Ian said, his voice sounding much too stiff. His hand was still on Amy's arm. "This is my... friend. Amy Cahill." Ian's eyes met Isabel's, and his voice became even stiffer. "She has nowhere to stay for the time being, and I've offered to let her stay in our _spacious_ home for as long as she needs to." After he said this, he stood, waiting- had he provoked the snake? Would she now strike?

Isabel strode forward, her eyes glinting in interest. This surprised Ian slightly- the day before, Isabel hadn't even looked at Amy. Now she appeared to be inspecting the girl.

Amy stepped backwards just ever so slightly, and Ian's hand slid down to join hers. He didn't want anyone scaring Amy off. "H-hello." Amy said meekly. She gave a polite smile. Or she tried to. "I'm so sorry if staying here causes you any trouble."

Isabel was flat-out staring now, sending chills down Ian's spine. She was staring straight into Amy's eyes, and when she spoke, it was as if she hadn't heard what Amy had said. That, or she really didn't care. Probably the latter, Ian thought. "Cahill, did you say?" Isabel asked quickly, her gaze swinging finally towards her son. Ian simply nodded, wondering what significance the name might have. His eyes narrowed, focused acutely on his mother.

In the end, Isabel's word would be law. And Ian wouldn't be able to stop her from throwing Amy out.

"Well then." Isabel stepped back and smiled pleasantly, making Ian's blood turn cold with surprise. "Have a nice stay, dear." Isabel murmured, her gaze flitting one last time over Amy's. And then she turned and was gone as quickly as she had come, her dark hair tossed over her shoulder, leaving her son shocked, and still holding Amy's hand.

It seemed almost like Isabel had recognized Amy.

Which was impossible.

Ian waved away that thought- it was too ridiculous. It didn't make any sense that Isabel could have seen- or met- Amy before- Isabel probably just thought Amy's outfit resembled those that the actors wore in her Feeding The Poor commercials. So, that thought discarded for now, Ian found himself with a rare grin spreading across his face. Which had a nice effect on Amy, who was now staring at him. "It looks as if you're definitely staying, then." Ian said, pleased.

"Yes," Amy murmured in agreement, and he saw the relief in her features.

Ian glanced down at their entwined fingers, which she didn't exactly seem to be minding. Oops, he'd thought that too soon- embarrassed, Amy gently shook her hand from his, turning away from him. But he saw the color of her cheeks before she did.

She's resisting, he thought, somehow finding this rather intriguing. That only meant he had to try harder. "Why don't we," Ian said, seeming to break into her thoughts, "-skip breakfast?" His eyes glinted when he suggested this, his voice smooth. "I've got a lot of ideas as to where we can go." Not giving her much of a choice, he started down the hall again, this time headed for the front door. His phone was already out, hailing the limo driver.

"Oh," Amy said, sounding bewildered. She trailed after him. "Okay."

_A/N_

_Woo, hoo... took forever, didn't I? :S_

_Please review. I know it sounds dumb but I promise, it WILL motivate me to update. Lol. As usual, I love hearing your thoughts, constructive criticism, predictions/guesses as to what might happen next..._

_1) What was the last song you heard/listened to? _

_2) Do you have anything decorating your bedroom door? (I have 'CAUTION' tape on mine. xD)_

_3) Do you ever wish you were an animal?_

_4) Movies or books? (BOOKS! xD)_

_Thank you SO much for reading... and reviewing :) _

_~Lovely_


	14. The Silver Tile

_A/N_

_Wow, guys. All those reviews! Thanks SO much! *party dances* *sings* We've hit the 245 mark! Thanks :D_

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: The Silver Tile

**~Amy Cahill~**

She was too close to him already.

This was bad- very bad. She'd spent so much time on the run, going so far as to rip herself away from the last of her family, because she _had_ to. She didn't need to get close to anyone- because she didn't want to endanger anyone else. This, this... finding out who she was and why she was significant and her brother wasn't... she needed to do this by herself. Alone.

She needed to carry the burden alone.

But she was too close to him- Amy Cahill was getting too close to Ian Kabra.

And she knew it, and it was happening too fast, and it made her feel selfish and miserable but she was just too close to him, getting emotionally attached to him and all. She didn't need any friends. What she needed was to be at the abbey, studying... seeing if Grace's note had been of any importance, because Amy was really clinging to the hope that it was. And she didn't need to be sitting in this car with her leg brushing Ian's whenever the limo jolted from the crazy traffic. Which made him scowl- the traffic, she hoped quietly, and not their slight touching- because he 'would have thought the ride would be smoother, seeing as they were in a limousine.'

He was taking her to see the Tower of London.

Nerves were killing Amy slowly. At least, that's what it felt like to her. All of the sudden, everything felt unstable- her existence and her life. Nothing was steady. That phone call from Dan had scared her to death, because she didn't like him having her number, even though it had felt so good to hear his voice. And she didn't like Isabel Kabra- there was just something creepy about that woman, no matter how beautiful she was. And the slightest glance from Ian sent shivers down her spine.

"We're here." Ian announced, the usual slight frown on his face seeming ever-present. "It should have taken 20 minutes to get here, not 45." He added with a grumble. Amy caught herself smiling at him. Amy remembered always being the one people said needed to loosen up- but she wasn't stiff at all compared to someone like him... he caught her smiling, a curious look on his face, and she stopped. Stop it, she thought to herself forcefully. You don't _need_ any friends. If you like Ian, then you should stay away from him as much as possible.

That rule didn't seem to be working out for Amy, though. Staying in Ian's mansion was bad enough- if anyone found where she was staying... Amy shuddered. She didn't want Ian or even Natalie or Isabel to be hurt by people trying to get to Amy. The Kabras were very nice to let her stay in their home, and Amy really appreciated it- there was nowhere else for her to go. But she couldn't risk anyone besides herself getting hurt, so she'd need to keep as low a profile as possible.

And she needed to keep things as neutral as possible between herself and Ian.

As the limo pulled to a stop, Amy realized just how tightly her stomach was clenched. She was feeling queasy and nervous and all-together just sick with nerves and anxieties. Finally getting to London... well, so far, she felt like she hadn't made any progress on her quest to find out more about Grace and her parents. Grace left me in charge of so many things, Amy thought, her head pounding. But _what_ things, exactly?

"Amy, are you alright?" Ian asked skeptically. Without waiting for an answer, he ducked out of the car on his side and seemed to appear in front of Amy's door, opening it for her. "You look a bit... car sick."

"I'm fine," Amy murmured faintly, his skeptical concern making her feel warm inside. She ignored the feeling and stepped out of the car. Her eyes widened at the sight of the Tower of London. As much as she should be at the abbey and not here, Amy was very impressed by the sight.

It was an old building, and she was certain upon sight that it was full of interesting history. Her palms itched- she was dying to go in and explore and buy a guidebook or a pamphlet, and take pictures, and make a scrapbook with all of the most interesting facts... okay, so maybe she wouldn't get to do much of that stuff. Amy sighed. She really would have loved to, though. Maybe if she'd come here with Grace, when she'd been alive. And Dan as well.

On the ride there, it had been raining on and off. As they stood outside on the curb, it began to sprinkle, tiny water droplets beginning to pepper Amy and Ian.

"There's the tower," Ian said, his eyes gleaming. He ignored the hint of rain. "But I was thinking, Amy. We should have lunch at the cafe across the street before we see the tower from the inside." He paused, and then added, "There's a good view of the tower from the cafe."

A stupid image of herself eating a fancy London lunch, picnic style- with Ian Kabra- and the tower of London in the distance popped into Amy's head. Don't be so stupid, Amy scolded herself, though her cheeks turned a bit pink from the thought anyway. Amy had nearly no experience with boys- boys had never seemed interested in her, and that was fine with Amy. She didn't like attention.

Eyes on her made her feel uncomfortable. If nobody liked her... in _that_ way, then she'd never be trying to impress anyone. And she wouldn't risk embarrassing herself quite so much. And she'd stutter less. It all made sense, just to stay out of the way, be quiet and plain. Not stick out in a crowd. There were things much more important than guys, anyway. Like... homework.

Or in Amy's present case, finding out what she could do here in London.

So why did Ian Kabra make her feel so strange? Like she'd drank a gallon of fizzy soda?

Amy realized she was supposed to answer Ian about the lunch thing. Lunch in a CAFE, she thought to herself, her cheeks growing just a tad bit warmer. NOT an outside picnic. Besides. It was _raining._ "That sounds great." Amy said. To be honest, she was starving. They had skipped breakfast, after all. Amy guessed that Ian had been expecting a shorter car ride, so that they could see a bit of the tower and then have lunch. But the drive had taken more time than he'd guessed, so they were doing lunch first...

Ian looked pleased that she agreed, and he led her across the street, just as it began pelting a heavier rain.

The cafe was adorable and small but with huge clear windows that seemed to take up almost an entire wall or two. Ian was right- a good view of the tower. Through the sheets of sudden rain, of course.

Ian looked at Amy. "Anywhere in particular you'd like to sit?" He asked. We were lucky not to get too wet, Amy thought, glancing outside at the new torrents. Amy suddenly marveled at how serious Ian looked, her thought switching from the weather to him- he almost always seemed so... grim. Even now, when in reality, he was only asking where she'd like to be seated. Not sharing bad news, or anything like that. Amy found that she was fighting off another smile, and when she realized that, the knots in her stomach tightened even more. There's nothing charming about people who don't know how to smile, she thought.

"You can pick." Amy responded, not looking directly into Ian's amber gaze. Amy could see him raising a skeptical eyebrow at her, but he walked a few feet away from her and to a table, and Amy followed, sitting down.

"I'll order for us." Ian said calmly, without asking Amy what she even wanted to eat. Now it was Amy's turn to raise an eyebrow- at his retreating form, of course. Still. He could have asked what I wanted, Amy mused. But it didn't matter that much... Amy stared out the big windows, rain sliding down the glass panels and making the shape of the tower of London seem a bit blurry.

Amy had just begun to daydream when Ian came back, holding a tray that held two mugs and two plates with some something-or-other piled on top. The mugs had curls of steam rising out of them.

Amy accepted her mug graciously, her fingers just brushing Ian's as he passed the mug to her. Her hands, which had gotten the most wet on their run inside, due to her trying to cover herself, were freezing. It felt nice to wrap her fingers around something warm. Despite wearing a jacket and all, Amy shivered. Her stomach growled. "What is all of this?" Amy asked, gazing down at her plate.

Ian pointed to her mug. "Hot chocolate." He said, "And mine is tea." He proceeded to point to their plates, the contents of which were identical, and he said something that sounded French and Amy didn't even attempt to understand. Instead, she just smiled a tiny smile. The food looked like some kind of a sandwich thing to her, and that would have to do.

"How did you know I love hot chocolate?" She said, unable to resist asking the question.

She was almost surprised when he smiled back. He just seemed to smile so little. Whenever he did, it made Amy want to stare at him. He just looked so... _nice_ when he smiled. The smile seemed to suit his face much more than the scowl did, which made Amy a little bit sad. The awkward rough encounters she'd seen between Ian and his mother, and also, by what he'd told Amy, made it evident that he wasn't close to anyone in his family. And as strange as it was, he didn't seem to have any friends. It was almost like he didn't want any.

Looking at him now, when he'd guessed that she loved hot chocolate, and he was smiling, and they were in this tiny cafe that she wouldn't have ever guessed he'd eat at... Amy felt compelled to ask, Who are you, Ian Kabra? But she kept her mouth shut, the question spinning around in her head. He was so... complex. With tons of layers? Like... an onion. Only, not an onion. Something entirely more pleasant than an onion...

Amy was horrified with herself when she began to think that it was all too easy to stare at Ian in this almost lazy setting- the dim cafe lights and the grim outdoor weather, providing a rainy backdrop as a setting behind Ian and his intelligent amber eyes.

Amy really wasn't the kind of girl who'd liked a lot of guys. Really. She just didn't have time, especially at this stage in her life. But this quiet, dreamy setting was making her paranoid that her head wasn't screwed on straight. Once or twice, Amy could feel her ankles accidentally brush up against Ian's beneath the table, and she flinched every time. You're not here for boys, Amy thought furiously at herself. You're not here for boys... Amy thought of her so-called mission and wanted to cry. Tomorrow, she thought fiercely. I'm going back to the abbey tomorrow no matter what. I won't let Ian drag me anywhere else.

But she still had the rest of today to finish. Amy peeked at Ian from around her sandwich. Maybe... maybe that wasn't _quite_ such a bad thing...

Time seemed to pass either very quickly or very slowly, and Amy wasn't sure which one of those it was. She was done her sandwich, though, and her drink, and she realized that with a start. Ian seemed to have finished long ago, waiting patiently for her with his hands folded on the table. Oh, how long did I make him wait? Amy thought. I really spaced out!

"Finished?" Ian asked, his tone neutral. Amy flushed.

"Yes. Sorry."

Ian stood up and sighed, all traces of a smile seeming to be gone from his face. Secretly, Amy was glad. Ian was less unnerving when he wasn't smiling. Ian said, "We're going to have to run through the rain." He made it sound as though they were marching onto the battlefield... "-Is that alright?" He asked. Amy nodded vigorously towards him. She wasn't afraid of a little rain.

Ian had already paid for their meal, and so the next thing Amy knew was that she was running across the street, half blind from shockingly cold rain. Ian grabbed her hand, pulling her to the curb. They hurried through shiny, slippery wet grass, the Tower of London looming towards them. After what seemed like a long time they were inside the doorway to the huge building, soaked.

Looking disgusted at the state of his attire, Ian flicked his wrists, sending raindrops showering. "Next time I'll be sure to bring raincoats." Ian sighed. "You can borrow one of Natalie's."

The admission fee was £19.50 a person, and as he had with the Westminster Abbey, Ian paid without giving Amy a choice as to if she did indeed want to pay her own fare. Amy thanked Ian, feeling slightly guilty. Ian looked as if he didn't give a cake crumb about paying for her, but Amy had never liked feeling like a charity case. She just felt bad. She imagined lots of people trying to use the Kabras because they had money- and that made her feel even worse.

Amy followed Ian further into the building, and to her surprise, Ian began telling her of the building's dark history- it was a popular tourist spot now, but it had once been a place of death and torture for criminals.

A prison.

But it was so _interesting_. Ian explained that this was where they kept the Crown Jewels, which Amy hadn't known. Ian recited these facts to her as if he was presenting rather nonchalantly something he knew quite well, like his own name. The facts just seemed engraved in is mind, and as they walked his words were smooth-flowing and continuous and relaxing to listen to. Amy used to go to museums with Grace and Dan- a long time ago. This reminded her a bit of those trips, because Grace had always known all about whatever it was that she was taking Amy to see.

Amy had always listened with rapture (while Dan had been bored out of his socks) and this was no exception to Amy's memories. It really did remind her of those trips with Grace and Dan. And while that made her miss the two of them, it also made her feel safe, like diving into a memory of a time when she'd been happier.

Ian's rich, accented voice got her so lost in history that she managed to forget that they were both sopping wet, and Amy probably looked like she'd been half drowned... Ian didn't, though.

Amy followed Ian, and she did this for more than just a few minutes. But passing through a stretch of hallway, something caught Amy's eyes, which widened when she saw it up close.

It was a tile on the wall, and she stopped to look at it.

It was a simple design- a silver tile with a blooming flower design etched into it. The etch marks were blue, looking almost as if a child had sloppily colored them that way. Or finger-painted them, maybe. But something about the shape of the flower caused Amy to freeze in place. That flower- why was it so familiar...? And then, just like that, she realized where she'd seen it, the puzzle pieces clicking together in her mind.

There had been a sketch of this exact flower- a blue blooming rose- in Grace's notebook.

_A/N_

_Thanks so much for reading. Darlin's, how was the chapter? _

_...time for le QUESTIONS_

_1) What is your favorite game to play at parties/with a group?_

_2) Do you wear glasses or contacts?_

_3) Are your ears pierced?_

_4) What scent is your shampoo? xD (I have coconut lime shampoo, and the moment.)_

_Please review, and thanks guys, I love ya :)_

_~Lovely_


	15. Enter: Vikram

_A/N_

_Hey guys! _

_I do want to apologize for the wait on this. I know the waiting sucks, and I thought I'd be updating more lately._

_BUT I did do a thing or two in the interim, if you want to check that out. I have a new one-shot, if you haven't read it, featuring Amy and Ian. It's called 'Amour Ascenseur' and I wrote it for the winner of my contest. I will also have a new one-shot up soon called 'Candles'. _

_NOW: THERE IS SOME BREAKIN' NEWS IN THE BOTTOM A/N, OKAY? Otherwise, please enjoy this chapter, and I will do my best to get the next one to you soon._

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Enter: Vikram

**-Ian Kabra-**

She was falling into his trap.

Ian could see it. Amy Cahill was falling for his trick- or more specifically, she was falling for him.

It was wrong, obviously. An immoral thing to do to a girl who seemed so nice. But Ian Kabra had stopped having a lot of morals a long time ago- they had always weighed him down...

Though his biggest feeling at the moment was triumph, there were other feelings fighting beneath Ian Kabra's skin and inside of his head. He felt bad; but he shouldn't feel bad. He'd given that up, too- a long time ago. Mercy, and caring about people, and kindness... those were things he'd abandoned. And with that doubt- and still, his triumph- he felt the tinniest, little bit, if possible, of... happiness.

He liked that she liked him. And he was finding that he liked it more than just a little bit, and it wasn't just because he was glad she was falling for his tricks. No, he didn't want to admit it, but he liked it when she smiled at him, when she said his name.

Ian gritted his teeth, walking Amy back to the limo waiting outside of the London Tower. He wasn't supposed to like her. For one thing, love was something foolish and stupid and most importantly wasn't something that even existed. It was something people had created themselves out of hopefulness and had then hyped up. No, love wasn't real, so beginning to like someone- especially someone like Amy Cahill- was a stupid idea. A worthless idea. Pointless... yes, she would fall for him, believing in the idiotic idea of love, and with her so-called affections, she'd spill who she was.

And he'd know everything he wanted to know.

It had stopped raining, but the clouds overhead warned that it would begin again any moment, and so, it was with haste that Ian led Amy back to the limousine.

To be honest, he'd had... well... quite an enjoyable time. There had been a bit there were Amy had gone strangely quiet, seeming to be mulling things over in her head, but after a while, her eyes had returned to him with their usual gleam, as if she was just looking for more knowledge. They'd ended up talking a lot, actually, after Ian was done with his tour guide spiel... Amy was easy to talk to. She was a good listener, and she was smart...

Amy's cheeks were slightly pink from the colder air outside, which smelled like fresh rain. The two had mostly dried off from their mad dash into the London Tower, but Ian could still feel the dampness in his clothes. He would be relieved to change into something dry at the mansion. Ian opened the limousine door for Amy, and she nodded shyly in thanks and slid into the long car. Ian followed.

Inside, it was quite comfortable, and the heat was on, which felt nice to Ian.

"So," Ian said, making another attempt at being conversational. (He was getting much better at it.) "Did you enjoy the tower more, or the abbey?"

"The abbey!" Amy blurted. Her cheeks reddened at the urgency of her answer, which Ian noticed. He narrowed his eyes and Amy seemed quick to add, "I loved them both, though. It's all going to be great for my home schooling." She smiled. "I'd like to go back to the abbey again. Tomorrow."

Amy's fascination with the abbey seemed to run deep. Ian wondered what she wanted to learn from there. Her tone seemed light and casual, but make no mistake- and Ian Kabra didn't often make mistakes- there was a desperate gleam in her eye. She didn't just want to go to the abbey. She _needed_ to. The question now was of course _why_.

"Fine, we'll head over there tomorrow." Ian responded, careful to keep his tone as casual as hers. From the corner of his eyes he watched her face fall, concern taking over her features.

"Ian..." Amy said carefully. "You don't have to come. Really. You've been putting up with me for a while now." A faint smile graced her lips, but it looked ghostly. "You have a life, and I don't want to keep you from it." Amy leaned back in her seat, her eyes clouding in thought after her words. But the idea that she would go somewhere tomorrow without him suddenly felt unthinkable to Ian. In a strange way, since he had first decided to discover who she really was, he hadn't imagined parting with her, even for a day.

"What if I want to?" Ian questioned back, hating himself for the note of sincerity that was mixed in with his words. "What if I'd rather be with you than with my family?" A shade seemed to drop over is features, darkening them. "They're hardly a family at all."

"What about your dad?" Amy said quickly, her tone now faltering in the cover of casualty. He could hear worry in her words. Worry for him, maybe... but worry over something else. She didn't want him to go with her to the abbey. She wanted to go alone. When he thought this, irritation began building inside of him. Had he not spent so much time with her, convincing her to begin falling in love with him? Only minutes ago he'd been certain she was. Falling for his tricks, thinking he might be a good person...

Ian hesitated, fighting to keep a scowl off of his face. He was a bit..._touchy_ on the subject of his father. In Ian's mind, his father had betrayed the family, been the one to let it fall apart and stay smiling all the while. Once, Vikram and Isabel Kabra had been in love, if there really was such a thing. But as Isabel's strange lust for power overtook her, Ian had always felt that Vikram had stepped back and let her. Just watched as she crumbled away, training her children to have empty spaces in their chests instead of hearts. "What about him?"

Amy blinked. "He's home, isn't he? You told me he works a lot, but I saw him. At least... I think it was him."

Ian gritted his teeth for a moment. Amy thought Vikram was home? "What did he look like?" He asked sharply. Amy blushed.

"I-it... could have been someone else. I c-could be wrong." Amy seemed quite embarrassed. "I only caught a glimpse of him-the man. But he looked a lot like you, so I just... figured." Amy gave an uncomfortable shrug. "He was tall and he had dark hair, with just a little bit of silver. He was wearing a business suit, and I think... he was carrying a briefcase."

Ian nodded coolly, but anger flushed through his veins. "Probably him," he muttered. It was true that Ian looked a lot like his father, so surely, Amy wasn't mistaken. But Ian was angry at Vikram. Ian didn't think his father should even bother showing his face around his family anymore. And besides that, it felt like the final slap to the face that Ian hadn't even known- Vikram had just shown up, not bothering to even send something as trivial as a text message to Ian, letting him know his father was home. Ian's hands were curled into fists, and he realized that he'd let his anger outwardly show- Amy was looking at him with a concerned expression on her face.

"Are you alright?" Amy asked. Her voice was quiet and gentle and soothing. For half a second, Ian believed that someone could care about him. _Actually_ care about him. But that half a second passed- because Amy didn't actually like him at all. Not the real him. He'd been pretending, charming her with a fake personality. And yet, when she looked up at him- and she have to look slightly up, even when they were seated, as he was a good deal taller than her- he liked that there was concern swimming in the depths of her green eyes. Because it had been such a long time since anyone had cared about him as a person rather than as an advertisement or something like that.

It felt sort of nice to have someone worrying about you.

Ian almost felt tempted to say no. No, he wasn't alright. If he said that, would the concern on her face grow? Would she worry more, care more? Or was there a boundary, a line he wasn't supposed to cross? He didn't know very much about these things... the 'no' was waiting on his lips, but he couldn't say it, in the end. Because the more bitter part of him was riling up- he didn't need her compassion. Not really. You're doing this so that she will fall for you, he reminded himself angrily. When he finally opened his mouth, he said, "I'm fine."

But he found that he wasn't.

And he also found that with his reassurance, not all of the worry left Amy's eyes.

For a long time, they were silent. After a while, Ian knew they were nearing the Kabra mansion. He'd been looking out the window, watching the raindrops- which had begun again, of course, while they were in the limousine- roll down the glass pane, but now he turned to look at Amy. She was looking out the window on her side, and Ian could see the silhouette making up the side of her face as she gazed, and in the gloomy light, he could see a faint glimmer in her eyes. That glimmer he always noticed she had in her eyes- intelligence. Thoughtfulness.

Ian got the idea to kiss her.

Immediately, he could see it playing out in his head. He'd lean down, and once she realized he wanted to kiss her, she'd sort of have to sit up, but they'd meet halfway, so it would be fine. And his lips would just glide over hers, a shiver running down his spine. And-

What's wrong with me? Ian thought, ripping his gaze away from her. They were nothing alike, and they were from two different worlds, and love didn't exist. Not really. So why bother? Why try? Ian had guessed some time ago that he might have to kiss her in order to get closer to her, but he'd never envisioned that he'd particularly want to. That he would do so without feeling as if it was just to get inside her head... Ian felt angry at himself. Sickly disappointed. Maybe he was _actually_ sick- he'd been rained on, after all. Maybe he was feeling under the weather and this was some kind of delirium.

But maybe he should still kiss her.

He'd hardly found anything out yet about Amy Cahill. Maybe he needed to kiss her and he needed to do it now, needed to convince her that there was chemistry between them and that he liked her. It was all a lie, of course, but she didn't have to know that yet.

The limousine came to a gentle stop near the front of the Kabra's mansion after they had sailed neatly through the gates. Ian knew the driver would wait patiently until he and Amy got out of the car. In a split second, Ian decided that, yes, for the sake of progression in his mission of finding out who Amy Cahill was, he should definitely kiss her.

Amy unbuckled her seat belt and leaned down to scoop up her bag. She shot Ian a friendly smile and reached for the door handle. Ian found that for some reason, he was nervous, and he hated that. But he reminded himself that he would certainly get the information he wanted if this kiss went well. Ian reached towards Amy, resting his hand on her shoulder. Though his touch was carefully gentle, Amy spun around quickly in her surprise. She gave him another smile, but this one was clearly nervous.

"No rush." Ian said with a slight shrug, indicating with his free hand towards the door. "We could wait until the rain lightens up." He couldn't bring himself to smile at her, but he made sure his face looked open enough and didn't show what he was really thinking.

"Oh," Amy said. "Okay."

And then he leaned in to kiss her.

It seemed that his mind was drawing a blank, and suddenly, he didn't know how to do this. It felt as though there were millions of things riding on this kiss, and as he made the move to draw them together, the importance of this moment crashed down on his shoulders. He'd kissed girls before. Lots of girls. But those kisses had never mattered, not even a little bit, and he knew that this one would. He could see her eyes swirling with innocent confusion, but then realization seemed to click into place.

He didn't get to kiss her.

At what seemed to be the last possible second, she moved away, and he felt the slightest brush of her hair against his lips. He leaned back, too, inwardly cursing. What had he done wrong? When he looked at her, her eyes were wide and her face was rapidly filling in with color.

"The r-rain s-stopped-" Amy stuttered, fumbling with the door handle. The door opened and she accidentally dropped her bag, spilling its contents across the wet ground. She was right, though- it had stopped raining. With a squeak, Amy hurried to pick up her scattered things. Ian leaned heavily back into his seat, hands turning to fists in anger. Why hadn't she let him kiss her? He was doing _everything_ he was supposed to. Being nice... Ian rubbed his face with his hands. This was too difficult. Amy wasn't a normal girl by any standards.

Ian could feel her looking at him, but a moment later, he looked back, and she was hurrying towards the front door of the mansion, her face still pink.

Full of anger, Ian dragged himself out of the limo to follow her inside. From the front door, he watched the limousine peeling out of the drive. With a sigh, Ian turned to enter the mansion.

Amy seemed to have disappeared. No doubt she was hiding away in her room. Like a scared little mouse, Ian thought, his bad temper making him grit his teeth. His slightly wet shoe bottoms made an ungraceful squeaking noise on the white-pink marble tile of the floor. Ian heard an amused laughing, and looked up to see Natalie. It seemed as though she was waiting for him- she sat in a large leather sofa-chair, a fashion magazine held in her well-manicured hands. Ian glared at her amusement.

"Hello, Ian." Natalie said, setting down her magazine on a French glass coffee table. "I saw your little friend run through here... and she looked rather embarrassed." Natalie didn't even attempt to hide her pleased smile. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing," Ian hissed, wishing his sister would disappear. Or at the very least, go back to boarding school. "What do you want now?" Ian walked towards her, and when he reached her, she gave him a critical look-over.

"You look damp," she observed. "Were you really stupid enough to go out without an umbrella?"

"What do you want?" Ian repeated.

Natalie sighed and stood up, forcing Ian to make room for her to stand. She looked up at him, her eyes exquisite and intelligent. For a moment, she said nothing, and he said nothing. And then she said, "Come with me." And she turned to go into the hall. Ian frowned, not wanting to take orders from his younger sister, but he obeyed anyway, walking out into the hall to join her. For a moment, the image of Amy moving so that he couldn't kiss her popped into his mind, and a wave of disgust washed over him. He pushed the memory away.

Natalie turned left down the hall, headed who knew where. But Ian followed her until she stopped in front of a polished wooden door, and Ian's lips curled into a displeased sneer.

"I don't want to see him," he hissed to Natalie. He didn't know why she'd brought him to Vikram's office, but he didn't want to see his father, and he wouldn't...

For a moment, Natalie said nothing, her gaze on the floor. When she looked up, Ian was surprised to see her gaze desperate and full of earnest. "Just go in there with me," she said, her voice hardly above a whisper. "Please." The 'please' hit Ian hard, surprised to see her act this way again, as she had in his room when she'd said Isabel was getting worse. Ian had no idea what Natalie was trying to get him into. This could even be a trick of some sort. But looking into her eyes, he felt a tingle in his stomach, the old connection that they used to have, tugging at his insides.

And whatever it was that she wanted him to see on the other side of the door, this wasn't a trick. He knew it wasn't. This was... some kind of cry for help, as it had been the first time Natalie had shown up. Ian was hardly surprised when Natalie knocked on the wooden door and then slid her hand into his, like she needed reassurance. She was bringing him here for a reason, bringing him to see Vikram...

Ian stared at his hand with Natalie's. They had been disconnected for a long time, as Isabel had gotten worse and worse, building her umpire and growing her riches. But maybe that had been a bad idea- to distance himself from Natalie. Ian was seized with a sudden feeling of deep regret- as awful as he pretended his sister was, they had once been so close. And it had been is fault that that closeness had ended. He'd pushed her away when Isabel's lust for power had gotten a hold of her. He'd pushed Natalie away, pushed everyone away...

The door opened, and Vikram Kabra stood in front of his children.

_A/N_

**BREAKIN' NEWS FOR FANS OF 'PARTNERS WEEK!': I HAVE A MINI SEQUEL IN STORE FOR YOU! **

_NOW. Let me explain something- this is not a full, multi-chapter sequel, okay? And a lot of planning needs to be done before anything is published. But there were so many fans who wanted a sequel, and I feel like I owe you guys one, as a thank you._

_-The plan is to post a story that will have, in its entirety, 3 chapters. 1 chapter for each pairing that was featured in PW!. The chapters will be long enough to have a mini follow-up story in each one, like a one-shot, and will take place probably a few months after the week featured in PW!._

_I just wanted to let you guys know that there was something in store for you :) Because you guys are seriously the awesomest, and I feel like this will be a good way to tie up any ends that might have been left loose._

_1) If you are a fan of Partners Week, would you like teasers for the new story? (Like little summaries lol)_

_2) Do you think Vikram will be good or evil?!_

_3) What's the best flavor of gum? (I like mint...)_

_4) Do you have a job? If you do, what is it?_

_Please review, and thanks so much for reading, being patient, and hopefully for reviewing. xD_

_~Lovely_


	16. Blue Roses

_A/N_

_Hai!_

_Thanks to all the reviewers. You guys really make me smile, and you make me want to update. Anyway, since I love y'all like a bear loves honey, the teasers (summaries) of the 'Partners Week!' follow-up one-shot collection are posted here. PLEASE _**SKIP**_ THAT IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PW! xD _

_In other news, my one-shot 'Candles' has officially been posted. I'd love it if you checked that out, if you haven't already. THANKS A BILLION_

**PARTNERS WEEK FOLLOW-UP ONE-SHOT COLLECTION SUMMARIES:** _*Please note that these are subject to minor changes, and the actual product might take a while to produce... but I'll get it done for you eventually. So be excited. I command it._

**Amy and Ian**: It's been a while since the last social adventure, and Amy has hardly heard from Ian at all... she's worried and confused. Are they together or not? When he suddenly shows up at her house without warning, she notices him acting strangely towards her, and she really doesn't know where they stand. Does he want to end their relationship before it's even begun, or does Ian just have a little... _surprise _in store for her?

**Sinead and Hamilton**: Something is wrong with Lincoln, and the first person Sinead calls (besides the vet, of course,) is Hamilton. Sinead is relieved when Hamilton agrees to come and visit her. But is she making too big a deal out of nothing? The vet said Lincoln would be fine... so is it for Sinead's sake rather than Lincoln's that Hamilton is coming over? Sinead _has _been missing him lately... is this an excuse to see him because she doesn't like the big distance that divides them?

**Natalie and Dan**: Dan is determined to kiss Natalie. (For REAL this time- and _he _wants to kiss _her_...) So, of course, he's ecstatic when she turns up at his house. But it seems like every time Dan makes an attempt to get that kiss, something goes wrong... and Natalie seems a bit evasive, something Dan thought she'd gotten over. Why is she messing with his head? And why does everything seem to be going wrong?

_There you go, my darlings!_

_Now- I hope you like this chapter! I tried not to make you wait too long! :) _

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Blue Roses

**~Amy Cahill~**

Amy had run all the way to her room, and now she was sitting inside with her back against the door, hugging her knees.

He tried to kiss me, Amy thought almost dizzily. Ian tried to kiss me...

The girly part of her wanted to be giddy. The girly part of her wanted to somersault over her bed or cartwheel past the big, ornate mirror. She wanted to scream into a pillow out of pure excitement. Because it so seemed that the charming Ian Kabra liked _her_. Normal, plain Amy Cahill from America...

But unfortunately, Amy couldn't do any of those girly things, because she was too busy being upset.

Upset because she _wanted_ to kiss him, and she _wanted_ to be girly over the fact that he'd almost kissed her- upset because, despite all of the precautionary measures she'd tried to take, she _liked_ him. She liked Ian. She was too attached to him already, and he was already sidetracking her too much- with his stupid good looks, and his stupid, perfect accent... but he wasn't stupid. He was smart.

He seemed a little lonely, or maybe misunderstood, but he was so... Amy couldn't think of an appropriate word to sum him up. At first he came off as so grumpy and mean and rude. But he'd surprised her by turning out to be someone she really liked a lot, even though he was a little rough around the edges... Amy groaned into her knees. _Don't get attached _was like, her number-one rule. Well, maybe not number one. But it was high up on the list- if she never got close to anyone, she'd never risk endangering them or hurting herself when she had to leave them.

I did the right thing, didn't I? She thought. By not kissing him?

Amy's head was swirling with confusion. She liked him, but she shouldn't. It was too dangerous. So it had been the right thing to do, right? Not kissing him? Oh, but what if he was offended? What if he didn't want her around anymore, and he kicked her out? Fear tugged at Amy's heart. She'd been lucky to land herself in a place like this- in any _place_ with a roof at all, really. If she couldn't stay here anymore, she'd have nowhere to go. And she really, really didn't want Ian to be mad at her.

It wouldn't have worked out, anyway, Amy thought forcefully. Ian was a nice person, but surely, he didn't _really_ like someone like her. He lived in a mansion that Amy pretty much considered a palace, and she had nothing. Amy was certain she was right about him- he only _thought_ he liked her, because he kept himself so shut out for so much of the time, and he'd just happened to open up a little to her.

If she'd actually... kissed him, well, then he would have seen that the two of them didn't fit together.

That hurt to think, but it did the trick, and it was set in stone on the walls of her mind- she'd done the right thing.

Amy did her best to push away her thoughts about Ian. Feeling dejected, she stood up and made her way to the cushy bed, pulling her journal out of her bag and flipping through it. Her heartbeat quickened- the... _thing_ that had happened between her and Ian had distracted her from what she'd learned at the Tower of London. Amy's excitement was growing as she switched her thoughts to her mission, and she rummaged through her bag for a pen or a pencil. After a few long seconds of digging, she finally gave up and just dumped the entire contents of the bag on the bed, spotting a pen almost instantly.

Amy clicked on the pen and closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating. _The tile_. The tile she'd seen at the tower... Amy opened her eyes again and sketched what it had looked like, trying to get the sketch as close to what she'd remembered the tile to look like as she possibly could.

She didn't have anything to color with, but she would remember that the tile had been silver and the rose had been blue. She knew she would.

When Amy was satisfied with her sketch (or as satisfied as she could be... she wasn't much of an artist. At all.), she flipped back a few pages to Grace's sketch of a flower. Amy felt her heart skip a beat when her suspicions were confirmed- the flower Grace had sketched in the journal was the exact same flower as the one that had been on the tile at the tower. "So why," Amy murmured to herself, "-is the rose next to the words 'Westminster Abbey'?"

Amy closed her eyes again, thinking hard. She flopped back onto her bed so that she was lying down, her fingers clutching the journal and the pen tightly. The flower tile had seemed familiar to Amy, and she'd thought it had because of the flower sketch in Grace's journal. But no, there was something else- some other reason why the tile seemed familiar. I must have seen it before, Amy thought.

Amy imagined a 'ding!' sound going off in her head when she realized where she'd seen the tile before. The abbey! Amy thought. She'd seen some tiles like that at the abbey!

She hurried to sit up and scribble her findings as a note in her journal, beside the picture of the tile that she'd sketched. She remembered seeing a few rose tiles at the abbey, in passing. She hadn't thought anything of it, until she'd seen the tile up close, at the tower...

It must be connected, Amy thought. There were tiles at both the abbey and the tower. And those tiles were engraved with the pattern of a rose, one that matched Grace's sketch perfectly. What did that mean? Amy flipped back a few pages and stared at Grace's handwriting, but it didn't tell her a thing. Amy yawned. It wasn't that late yet, but she was certainly tired. "Maybe there are silver tiles at all the famous London places," Amy muttered to herself. It sounded far-fetched, but there _had_ been tiles at both the famous abbey and the famous tower...

Amy's bed was soft and warm, and suddenly, all she felt like doing was sleeping. She was tired. Tired of the way she'd been living- on the run, hiding, and now, trying to sniff out clues that were impossible puzzles when she found them. What did all of this mean? Silver tiles and blue roses... Amy could feel her eyelids drooping, and she curled up on the bed, her cheek against the soft pillow.

"I shouldn't sleep," Amy whispered to herself, her eyes still closed. "I have thing to figure out..." But she suddenly thought of Ian, and how she hadn't kissed him, but she'd wanted to. Scared of her feelings, Amy pushed them away. Sleep would be good, she decided.

When you were asleep, you hardly had to worry about anything...

Amy slept well through dinner, and no one came to get her, which she was fine with. She did wake up once or twice, but it was always just to go back to sleep- she felt extremely weary, and only a little bit of it had to do with walking around so much these past few days. Mostly, she was weary in her heart, tired of knowing too much, but not knowing enough. Tired of missing Dan. Tired of not making friends for the fear of having to leave them... And this time around, she was tired because of Ian, hurt flaring up in her chest when she thought of him.

When Amy was asleep, she had dreams, but they were all strangely disconnected and seemed far away. All except for the dream she had far too often- the dream in which she was with Grace, in Grace's study. And the box with the carved poem sat on the table, and sunlight spilled in through the windows, and it all seemed so happy, even though it wasn't real. And on the table sat a single, drooping blue rose, in a vase-

Amy woke up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding in her chest. The dream- the blue rose.

The sketch in Grace's notebook.

The silver tiles at the tower and the abbey- both with carved-in roses, painted blue.

Blue roses.

Amy wracked her brain. This was important. These things were all linked- the roses and the tiles. Rubbing the bleary sleep from her eyes, Amy hurried to pull out her laptop computer and power it on. She stared at it impatiently as it booted up, wishing it was faster, or wishing she could just use a familiar book to do her research. But soon enough, the computer was on, and Amy was typing 'blue roses' into the search bar.

Maybe this is a real breakthrough, Amy thought, hope budding in her chest. Maybe this would lead to answers. Blue roses... what could that possibly mean? Why would so many people be after her, want information from her, if all of this had to do with a certain color of a fairly common flower? It still didn't make sense, but to Amy, this felt like taking another step forward. Her parents had worked in the field of scientific medicine. Maybe the blue roses had been used for a medicine they were working on?

Her hope had been growing so fast, but when the search results popped up on the screen, her world came crashing down.

Amy Cahill had found out that blue roses do not exist.

_A/N_

_Yes, kind of a short chapter, I know. xD But this one just didn't need to be very long. The next one, as by now I'm sure you all know, will be Ian's POV- and I last left him off with a bit of a cliffhanger. So you'll get to see what happens with him in the next update._

_To set the record straight: yes, blue roses really, truly, do NOT exist. Scientists have tried, but they never seem to be able to manipulate the genes into creating a true-blue flower- the closest they can get would still technically be classified as a purple._

_As usual, thanks for reading, and PLEASE review._

_1) What school subject are you currently doing the best in? _

_2) Would you rather be a manatee or a giraffe? xD _

_3) Do you prefer computer researching or book researching? (Obviously, Amy would pick books...)_

_4) True or false: The best flavor of iced tea is green tea with ginseng and honey (or just green tea). (THE ANSWER IS TRUE, BY THE WAY)_

_BYE_

_~Lovely_


	17. Devising a Plan

_A/N_

_Please enjoy this chapter, my lil' darlin's. I really appreciate all reviews. Thanks so much! And please continue to review because your reviews really make me want to update and they make me HAPPY. THANKS, BABES._

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Devising a Plan

**-Ian Kabra-**

Ian and Natalie hadn't seen Vikram in quite a while, but he looked just about the same as the last time Ian had seen him.

With dark hair that was only just beginning to gray above his ears, Vikram was a dashing man. Ian looked quite like him- though he looked like his mother, as well. All of the Kabras had similar dark hair and dark, amber eyes, though Vikram's seemed a few shades lighter, like the color of honey. He was impeccably dressed, as usual, and a briefcase sat on his work desk. A tired smile was displayed on his handsome face.

Ian felt his eyes narrow in his complete distrust of his own father.

"What is this?" Ian demanded to know, a slight hiss in his voice. He felt a squeeze on his hand in Natalie's- he thought that, oddly enough, this time, _she_ was trying to reassure _him_.

"No hello?" Vikram said wryly. He sighed, and Ian was startled to see him look years older when he did. But a moment later, he straightened, resuming his usual young-and-healthy-looking state. Vikram gestured to the chairs in front of his fancy, carved wood desk. The air around him seeming to prickle with his own hostility, Ian slid into a chair, still keeping his hand locked with Natalie's. Vikram seemed to note their laced fingers, his eyes seeming to ask about it. Ian looked away, not providing an answer.

Strangely enough, Ian had decided in a matter of just a few minutes that he was going to do his best to get Natalie back in his life. Really in his life- the way she used to be. Before the Kabra family had split apart, Natalie had been his favorite person in the world, the only person whom he felt as if he could tell anything to. He knew that spoiled, fashionista Natalie was at least mostly just a cover.

Ian wore covers and masks, too. He would know.

Though Natalie always did have a soft spot for Gucci.

"What is this?" Ian repeated, now seated, although not comfortably. He didn't want to look at his father, and he was on edge, not wanting to be caught off guard by anything. When he looked at Vikram, he could feel all kind of emotions swelling in his chest and threatening to burst forth from his throat and mouth in the form of words. And more than anything, it seemed, Ian had come to hate his own emotions. He left them under his covers and masks for good reasons. Though he'd decided to rebuild a relationship between himself and Natalie, she would be the exception.

He would not care about anyone else. Just himself and Natalie, and not Isabel and not Vikram.

"I wanted to see you, Ian." Vikram responded, his tone casual enough, but behind it, Ian detected that Vikram was choosing his words carefully, as if he didn't want to make a mistake. "And Natalie." For a moment, Vikram said nothing, and Ian told himself silently to face his father. I won't be perturbed by anything he says, Ian told himself firmly in his head. He met his father's eyes evenly, and Vikram's watchful gaze danced between his son and his daughter. "You two have grown up quite a bit," he commented. "Natalie, you look so much like your mother... and Ian, you're every bit as handsome as I'd guessed you'd grow up to be."

Ian felt anger rising inside of him. He hated Vikram commenting on him and Natalie growing up. You coward, Ian thought. You could have stayed. You could have tried to make mum better. But instead, you left. Because of _work_. That was the sad excuse he'd left them with, anyway.

Natalie actually smiled at her father's compliment, hope in her eyes that hurt Ian. Don't trust him, Natalie, Ian thought. He'll make nice and then he'll leave again. Same as last time.

It would be a lie to say people never changed, but it seemed to Ian that people only ever changed for the worse rather than the better. All he had to do was look at his parents for an example. Once, they had been a beautiful, rich young couple with a happy little family and a lovely estate. Now they were nothing, all split apart, every line in their book filled in with shadows instead of happiness.

Ian thought of Amy, and how, despite the fact that she seemed so secretive, and had quite a lot of unspoken things up her sleeves, she seemed so genuinely _nice_ and _kind_. The world, he thought to himself, would stamp that out of her eventually. She would learn. She'd be a broken shell, just like the rest of them. And then she wouldn't smile so much.

"If you'd wanted to see us," Ian said coldly, "-you could have stayed." Ian inspected the cuff of the sleeve on his free arm. "Instead, you gave up on us." Ian met his father's eyes once more. "Gave up on your children and your wife. You left us. You can't pretend now that you didn't." Ian leaned forward in his seat, his eyes narrowed in a silent threat. "Is that why you've called me here? And Natalie? You want to pretend you're a great father for a few minutes before you pack up and leave again?" His voice was airy, but with little prickly spines of spite.

Ian could see his taunts in effect on his father's face. Vikram's eyes held sadness that he didn't even attempt to hide.

To Ian's surprise, Vikram partially agreed with him.

"You're right," Vikram said. "Though not about packing up and leaving... again." He said that word with difficulty, and he heaved another sigh, again seeming to transform into someone older for a few moments. His eyes were full of regret. "I did leave you. And I shouldn't have." Ian could feel his heart hammering against his rib cage, his anger not decreasing just because his father had admitted to his faults. In fact, Ian only felt angrier. There was no going back on what he'd done.

"Coward," Ian hissed. Vikram's face betrayed the tiniest twitch of a flinch. Ian felt a hand on his chest, and it was Natalie's. Her eyes were hard and serious, but Ian read her expression as her hand eased him back into his chair, which he'd very nearly jumped out of. Ian let her. Listen to what he has to say, Natalie seemed to say through her eyes. Ian frowned, not wanting to give the man a chance at all.

"I shouldn't have." Vikram repeated. "I cannot expect you to forgive me, but I hope you understand why I left."

A snarl was about to rip its way out of Ian's angry throat, but Natalie beat him to the punch, though her response was much more civilized than Ian's might have been. "We don't understand," Natalie said, quickly albeit seriously. "And we deserve an explanation." Ian glared at his father, only held back by Natalie's hand and her words. This is utterly absurd, Ian thought to himself.

Vikram nodded towards Natalie, whom he seemed to find it easier to look at. "I was a coward. That is regrettably true. At the time, however... it seemed right for me. I simply couldn't... well, I couldn't watch the state of my wife's true self declining any longer."

'True self'? Ian thought mockingly. Vikram had fled the scene of a family that had just begun breaking apart. There had always been a part of Ian that believed things wouldn't have been so bad if Vikram was around more. He wondered when the last time Vikram and Isabel had seen each other had been. A year ago, he guessed. Probably not sooner.

"You wanted to leave," Ian said, still speaking out of spite. At that moment, he realized how many scars there must have been on his own heart, and he hated it. He didn't want to be vulnerable. "Why don't you just divorce her?" He spit, and by 'her' he clearly meant Isabel. Ian gritted his teeth, waiting for an answer. Natalie had flinched at his words, and she'd sank down some in her chair.

Vikram's head snapped quickly towards Ian, and there was a fire flickering behind his eyes. Sounding eerily like Ian himself, he said, an angry edge in his voice, "Because I love her." Ian felt the word hit him hard. There was grief in the end note of Vikram's words, making them sound believable. True. No, Ian thought. He left us. I don't trust him, and I _never_ will. "I still love her." Vikram closed his eyes for a long moment, and opened them when he spoke again. "The real Isabel is somewhere in there." He folded his hands on the desktop and took a deep breath. "Whether you forgive me or not," he said, and Ian knew that was directed towards him and not so much towards Natalie, who seemed more open, "That's what I'm here to speak to you about. The real Isabel Kabra."

Ian was grateful for Natalie's hand in his, seeming to keep him steady. "The 'real' Isabel?" Natalie questioned, sounding dubiously skeptical.

Vikram nodded, heaving yet another sigh, so colossal that his fancy tie moved considerably on his chest. "If my guesses are correct, Isabel has showed you two her drug. Her serum. What she refers to as the 'family business.'" His eyes darkened. "Sancsylline."

Ian's blood ran cold at the mention of the cold silver liquid Isabel had showed him in a glass syringe- which she'd then used to inject the liquid mix into her skin. Ian had barely even given the subject any thought, because it horrified him. He'd never seen anything like it before, and he never wanted to again. Yes, Isabel was beautiful and looked young for her age. But the sancsylline was unnatural and had, in the end, disgusted him. His meeting with Isabel had been cut off last time- but he'd been dreading the moment he knew would come when she'd call him back to tell him more.

More, which he didn't want to know.

Vikram seemed to note recognition in his children's eyes. Ian glanced at Natalie, and it seemed she knew what the sancsylline was as well, though she hadn't been there when Isabel had shown Ian.

"Yes?" Natalie said warily. Ian was somewhat pleased to hear that she hadn't let down most of her walls. Vikram just wasn't someone he thought they could afford to trust. No, Ian thought, still sticking to his plan. As long as Natalie was up for it, it would be the two of them against the world. Ian liked this idea and it stuck in his mind like glue. The idea that someone, just one other person, and no one else, could be there for him...

It would be like it had been so long before.

Vikram's folded hands tightened. "The sancsylline is the root of the Isabel problem- it's the cause of her decline. It's destroying her."

"What?" Natalie said, confused. "It seems to preserve her youth. How would that cause her to... _change_?" Natalie's eyes clouded, and Ian pitied her. Still upset over Isabel's personality changes... Ian himself had just given up on her a while ago. When Vikram had left for his travels. But Ian's gaze sharpened in interest. He'd always believed Isabel's decline in personality and rise in power had been naturally human. The world seemed to crush beautiful things and destroy them.

Isabel had been exceptionally beautiful.

"It's a side effect," Vikram explained. "It wasn't easy, but I figured out the cause of her changes, and therefore stole some of her sancsylline. From what I can determine, the liquid works in a way that causes you to remain young- and actually lengthens your life, though I'm not sure how significantly." He paused, looking for the right words. "But the liquid has a terrible side effect. It causes one to become increasingly dependent upon it." Unhappiness shined in his eyes. "Isabel believes she needs the sancsylline, but I'm guessing it's quite rare, which is why it hasn't been discovered sooner."

Ian thought the idea of the sancsylline lengthening a life sounded absurd. But... maybe it wasn't. Ian had witnessed Isabel injecting a dosage himself- and with his own two eyes he'd seen nearly a year of aging disappear from Isabel, leaving her younger-looking and more radiant. Maybe, as insane and confusing as it sounded, Vikram had a point.

"Hm," Ian muttered to himself, going over it in his head. It was stupid and seemed unbelievable. But at the same time... Ian did believe it. He was wary, but he couldn't detect any lies in Vikram's voice. And Ian had always been particularly excellent at catching liars.

"In Isabel's dependency upon the sancsylline serum, she'd left more..._important_ things behind." Vikram sighed. "Her quest for power and money is probably fueled by the serum as well. I believe she's acting so out of term because she needs money to fund research and extraction teams for the sancsylline." He rubbed his temple, looking clearly worn and frustrated. "There's so much that I'm only guessing at." Ian knew his father hated guessing and not being sure of things, not yet having them set in stone. It was a trait he'd passed on to his son.

"How do we know we can trust you?" Natalie said quietly. "Why should we listen to you? Why should we believe a word you say?" She sniffed, throwing her beautiful hair over her shoulder.

Vikram was completely still for a moment. "I suppose you can't know whether or not to trust me," he said. "I won't force either of you into anything. But at the present, I'm devising a plan."

"A plan?" Natalie asked.

Vikram nodded. "A plan to get Isabel Kabra back. And I would love your help. In fact, I don't think I can do it without you two."

Ian narrowed his eyes. Something seemed off. Something here was fishy, not quite right. But all the facts seemed to be in line... Vikram was holding out his hand, a look of hopefulness in his eyes. Ian closed his own amber orbs for a moment in thought. When he opened them, he glanced at Natalie, and she nodded at him. Steeling himself, Ian took a deep breath, and shook his father's hand.

He hoped he wouldn't regret this.

_A/N_

_1) What's your favorite kind of candy bar?_

_2) Do you tan (purposely?) _

_3) Have you ever eaten dog or cat food? (I ate a piece of cat food once as a dare... It didn't taste like Captain Crunch... :'( xD)_

_4) Favorite breakfast cereal? _

_I do so hope you enjoyed the chapter. Now please leave reviews. If you do, the Irish leprechauns will bless you and leave you pots of GOLDDDDD_

_~Lovely_


	18. Surprise Destination

_A/N_

_Thanks so, so, so much to the reviewers!_

_ I really appreciate the input- and we've reached 333+ reviews! Thanks, guys!_

_The support is the best ever and I PROMISE it does motivate me. I'm not kidding when I say reviews make me want to update xD I especially like the reviews with lots of information on what you liked and didn't like in the chapter._

_Now, this chapter is a very important one in the progression of the story. Very soon, the 'adventure' genre will be kicking in a lot more._

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Surprise Destination

**~Amy Cahill~**

When Amy Cahill woke up, she felt miserable.

She wasn't always happy, exactly, living life the way she'd been living it of late. But she'd always done her best to keep her head up, and she'd done so for Dan, for Grace, for Erasmus, and for her parents...

Today, though? No. Today was just... not a good day. And it was only just beginning.

First of all, Amy had woken up with chills and a bad case of the sniffles. She'd been rained on profusely the day before, so this wasn't exactly a surprise, but it was indeed unfortunate. She'd fallen asleep last night in front of her computer, and while she slept, it stayed on until the battery died. She'd woken up in the middle of the night freezing and her laptop perched precariously on the edge of her bed. She'd wriggled under the covers after putting the laptop away, but she'd had a fitful night after that, too...

Amy sniffled, trying to find the energy to continue to drag a brush through her hair. She looked awful, with tangled hair and bags under her eyes, and a nose that was already turning red from being blown.

She'd felt so crushed at finding herself at yet another dead end. She'd tried listing all of the things she knew already, to look for connections to things she might _not_ know- but she hadn't learned anything.

"One more time," Amy muttered to herself now, looking away from the mirror and her terrible-looking reflection. She squeezed her eyes shut, listing off what she knew; her mother, Hope, had been medical scientists, searching for cures to diseases with her medical team. Grace had been one of the founders of the team, and later on in their lives, Amy's father, Arthur, had begun working with the team as well. Erasmus had worked as one of Hope's project partners...

...and then she always got a little stumped. The foggy part was just ahead- there were people after the scientist team, but what people? Who were they? What did they want-

Amy sighed, cutting off her own thoughts. Relaying the facts wasn't helping her right now. It was just giving her a headache. She shivered and wrapped herself up in a blanket at the foot of her bed.

It was well past breakfast time (Amy had slept through it. She seemed to be getting into a habit of skipping what should be the most important meal of the day...) and it was nearing lunch time. She'd hardly moved from where she was in her room, freezing cold... sneezing and sniffling... Amy mournfully thought of how nice the food was here at the Kabra mansion. She was sniffly, sick _and_ hungry.

And then there was a knock on the door.

Amy's heart stopped it her chest. It was Ian. It had to be Ian- no one else here cared about her. Amy felt her mouth dry up and she was unable to make a sound, frozen, staring at the door. She hadn't seen Ian since the day before, when she hadn't kissed him. Amy winced at that thought- that she _hadn't_. Because she knew a guy like him would never actually like a girl like her.

Amy heard Ian's stiff voice behind the door.

"Amy?"

Embarrassment at turning away from him when he'd been leaning in made her face turn pink now. She knew she looked horrible, and she felt horrible, too. She didn't want to open the door. In fact, she didn't even want food anymore- she felt like making a quick dive under the covers of her bed and staying there for... forever, maybe. Yeah, that sounded good.

But she hadn't moved and responded, and she sat staring at the door, her mouth slightly opened- she'd intended to respond that she wasn't feeling so well. Because maybe then she could put off seeing him for a while- just... just until she could collect her thoughts. If she would _ever_ be able to... Ian was making a real mess of her, it seemed... oh, God, he was opening the door...

When he did, and she saw him standing there, she thought he looked as stiff as he'd sounded when he'd called her name- even more robotic than he usually was.

But she thought he looked so odd. Not _bad_, but different- because for one thing, this definitely _was_ the stiffest she'd ever seen him, and for another thing, he didn't look quite as neat and clean as she'd always seen him previously. He was wearing jeans and a button down shirt, when she'd never seen him without a tie or wearing jeans. His hair was the tiniest bit ruffled and there were slight bags under his eyes.

Yet he was so good-looking to her in that moment that it almost hurt. She looked awful, she thought- with her dull, sick-looking eyes and tangled hair. And he looked sleep deprived, maybe, and was lacking his usual fancy clothes, but he looked so much better than her anyway that she almost wanted to laugh, a twisted kind of laugh. No, she thought. Somehow he looked the most handsome she'd ever seen him.

Who had she been to turn him down? To not kiss him when he'd seemed to want to kiss her?

Walls, Amy, she thought, gritting her teeth. She was supposed to have built walls around herself. So that... so that nobody could touch her-

Ian spoke, but his eyes seemed to avoid hers, fixed on some point on the far wall, well away from Amy and her green eyes. His voice was brittle but there was an unmistakable undertone of carefulness in his words. "Amy... I need you to come with me."

Just from looking at him, and knowing she'd dogged his attempt to kiss her, Amy's face was filling in with color. "C-come with you?" She stuttered, confused. She noticed in even more confusion that an empty backpack was leaning against the frame of the door beside Ian. "To w-where?" Amy added, silently hating the falters in her voice. A sudden shot of panic raced through her veins. What if he hated her now, because she hadn't kissed him? What if he was kicking her out?

Ian leaned down and scooped up the backpack, a dark green color against his shirt, a light blue. "You'll find out soon enough." He said, his voice sounding slightly rough. "Here, take this. Put your things in it." The backpack dangled from his outstretched grip. Amy knew she should walk over to him and take the bag, or at the very least ask Ian what he was talking about, but she was frozen. I have nowhere to go, she thought, and that thought looped in her mind. Nowhere to go if she left the Kabra mansion. Nowhere to turn.

In the back of her mind she knew that the people after her hadn't ever guessed she'd find a place to stay that was as nice as this one. She'd though that, surely, she could stay here for a while. A few weeks, even...

Amy felt bitter. She'd made an awful mistake. Because she wanted to kiss him- she knew that for certain now. She'd certainly, most definitely wanted to kiss him. Ian was nice, and smart, and the first guy to ever pay any attention to her. (Not that being on the run made it easy for any guy to. But she was still plain, invisible in any regular setting...) How had she returned Ian's... feelings? By turning away when he'd tried to show he liked her. Guilt clawed at her stomach. She'd offended him. Now he was making her leave, because she'd been so rude, and he'd been nothing but kind...

And then she was walking towards him, almost automatically, and she'd accepted the bag. She sniffled- her stupid, sick, clogged up nose- and turned back to the inside of her room, grabbing her bag. She dumped the contents of it into the backpack and stuffed the bag itself inside. She grabbed a few more things- Grace's notebook and her laptop. Amy swallowed hard. That was really all she had.

She slipped on her shoes and turned back to Ian.

"Where are we g-going?" She asked softly. She felt miserable. Sick. Still like she should just dive under the covers of the warm, safe bed... Ian seemed surprised at how sad she looked. Amy bit her cheek, hard, trying to keep herself steady.

"I... It's a surprise." Ian said calmly. Amy felt tiredness weighing down her chest and she wanted to cry. She glanced back at the lush, fancy room she was sure she'd never see again. She would miss the sea foam and light blue color theme, and she would miss the big window. As dumb as it was... the room had kind of been _home_ for the last few days. Amy found that she was grateful for that. She so rarely ever had a home. She nodded in response to Ian, trying not to be angry with him. It was me that messed up, she thought bitterly.

After a paused moment, Ian began walking down the hall, and Amy followed him. They walked until they reached the steps, and then Ian looked as if he was going to say something, but he didn't. Amy shot him a less-than-half-hearted smile and followed him when he went down. The backpack felt heavy to her, even with the little that she really owned...

Downstairs in the lovely entrance way, Natalie Kabra was waiting for them.

To Amy's surprise, she, too, was wearing jeans, though they were clearly designer, and a chain necklace sill hung from her neck. On her back was a dove-gray backpack. When she saw Amy, she narrowed her beautiful eyes in suspicion, and Amy felt the younger girl's eyes boring holes into her head. Wordlessly, Natalie whirled around and marched out the huge front doors. A blast of cold air reached Amy and she shivered.

Ian was just scooping up a backpack of his own, dove-gray in color, as Natalie's had been. He slung it over his shoulder and beckoned for Amy to follow him- he went outside, as his sister had. Amy hurried to follow him, shivering again, now immersed in the cold outside air.

In the large courtyard of a driveway, the usual limousine was waiting for them.

This didn't quite _seem_ like the Kabras were kicking Amy out...

After all, both Ian and Natalie had backpacks, too. But Amy barely dared to hope as she followed Ian to the long car and slid in after him. Inside the dark limousine, a divider had been set up- Amy could see a dark shape behind the divider that she knew was Natalie. Amy bit her tongue to keep herself from spilling over with questions, and she heaved her new backpack- which she'd been clutching to her chest before- onto the floor between her feet. Ian sat beside her, glancing for a moment at the shape of Natalie's shadow before moving his gaze towards Amy.

"A surprise, huh?" Amy said miserably. Though she was quiet, she knew Ian had heard her. Outside the window, there was a sheet of cold fog resting over everything and blurring lines and shapes. Amy felt the limo beginning to move, and it peeled out of the driveway and headed towards the fancy gates guarding the residence.

"Are you alright?" Ian said suddenly. "You look..." He didn't finish his sentence, and hot embarrassment crept up Amy's neck. She didn't know what was going on, but if Ian was dumping her somewhere in the streets of London... well, it wasn't very nice of him to point out that she didn't look very nice today. Amy winced.

"I think I have a c-cold." She mumbled. She glanced up at Ian and saw his eyes sharpen in what appeared to be worry. Amy felt her heart stirring in her chest, but the sad reminder that she'd turned away when he'd tried to kiss her landed squarely on her shoulders, telling her that she ruined the very slim chance she'd had. And, she thought, I'm going to pay the price for it...

"You should have said something before we left..." Ian murmured. His eyes were unnervingly piercing. "Are you warm enough?"

Amy was barely fighting off shivers, though it was plenty more warm on the inside of the extravagant car than outside of it. She sniffled again, wishing she still had the blanket she'd dropped in her room back in the mansion. Also, a box of tissues would have been nice to have. Amy sighed. She was feeling too weary to lie at the moment, so when she answered Ian, it was honestly. "I'm freezing," Amy told him. Ian nodded and turned to what seemed to be a temperature control system with way more buttons than there had even been in Aunt Beatrice's minivan.

Ian hit a button and wonderful, wonderful warm air began streaming into the car, warming Amy all the way through to her bones. Avoiding Ian's gaze, still sorry she hadn't kissed him, Amy said a quick thank-you and focused her eyes on the green backpack between her feet, the only sounds she could hear now being the sound of the moving air.

"I would like to apologize." Ian said suddenly, cutting into the growing near-silence. Amy looked up quickly, surprised. Ian was staring at the divider, his eyes nowhere near Amy's. For what? Amy wanted to ask him, but she couldn't get her mouth to form the words. As if he'd heard her, Ian answered the question she hadn't asked aloud. "For trying to kiss you."

Scarlet flooded Amy's face. You're so stupid, she scolded herself, a sense of urgency welling up in the pit of her stomach. Say something! Say... sorry! "N-no," Amy said, her voice unfortunately shaky. "I'm sorry..."

Ian scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. You have nothing to be sorry for." Amy's eyes traveled to the divider and the shape of Natalie's shadow, and again, as if answering her when she hadn't even phrased the question, Ian said, "She can't hear us. It's soundproof." Amy nodded in relief, glad that it was. Just... just in case. Amy jumped a little in surprise when she felt Ian's hand on hers. "What are you sorry for?" He asked quietly. Amy attempted to swallow her embarrassment. It didn't work very well.

"For... n-not kissing you..."

Ian scowled. "You don't have to be sorry. You didn't want to, that's all." He sounded a little bit sad, beneath his mask of uncaring. His hand slid away from hers.

"No." Amy squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them again, fixing them on Ian. She took a deep breath. "It's not that I didn't want to. It's just that..." She didn't know how she was supposed to tell him. Tell him that she was scared of getting close to people- in case she had to leave them, or in some cases, in case she dragged them into her trouble.

Ian shook his head. "I don't want you to feel..." His lip curled. "_Obligated_, or anything of that sort."

The color- even all of the pink- drained from Amy's face. Oh, she thought. Ian thought she might feel as if she had to like him, in return for his hospitality and putting up with her and all. A wave of sadness for him washed over Amy's thoughts. It had been less than a week, but she thought she knew quite a bit about Ian Kabra and his life.

Amy thought she knew that all too often, people were 'obligated' to like him. She knew he hated shooting commercials or posing for poster pictures. And she thought of when she'd first met him, on the plane to London- he'd seemed so nasty at first. But then she'd gotten him to open up a bit. He wasn't really nasty, just... misunderstood.

"It's not that," Amy said. "I don't feel... obligated. I... I wouldn't do that to you." She frowned and then sighed, suddenly remembering how tired she felt, and again thinking how nice it would be to have a tissue. Or, like, a whole box of tissues. Ian was frowning at her. "I'm really tired," Amy blurted suddenly. "W-will it take a while to g-get to the... surprise?"

Ian stared at her for a moment, and her sudden topic change. He blinked. "Yes." He said. "It will."

She thought again of her fears that he was getting rid of her. But all of a sudden, she didn't think it was that. He seemed kind of miffed, to say the least, over the whole kiss thing. But she just couldn't see him dumping her somewhere, and she was grateful for it. Reassured by these sudden thoughts, and by the fact that Ian and Natalie had stuffed backpacks, too, Amy felt herself relax.

And then... well, she didn't know why she had done it, exactly. No, she did. And it was because she wanted to. Not because she felt obligated.

She rested her head against Ian's shoulder.

Some of that old pink flush returned to her face, and she could feel Ian stiffen in surprise of her leaning close to him. He was was completely silent, not objecting or anything of that sort, just... quiet. A moment passed and Amy felt stupid, cursing herself in her head for making a move that seemed so idiotic. She shouldn't have done it. She was just trying to make it clear that she, well, _liked_ him. Really... But just as she was about to draw away, Ian seemed to relax.

So she didn't move away.

Amy's eyelids began to feel exceptionally heavy. The car was warm and the entire atmosphere felt very sleepy. Amy thought, embarrassing herself more, that her head fit rather nicely on Ian's shoulder, and she was glad he couldn't see her pink face. Thoughts flitted quickly through Amy's mind, but the gentle movement of the car seemed to be dragging her eyelids down.

In those flitting thoughts she wondered where Ian could be taking her, and why Natalie was coming along as well... and why they needed such big backpacks... and she thought as it began to rain again that the weather was adding more gentle sounds to pull her down into sleep... and Ian's fingers were suddenly entwined with hers...

Then she was asleep, without any clues as to where Ian Kabra was taking her.

_A/N_

_I have never been inside of a limo, okay? xD So I'm sorry if the description was weird/sucky. But I just kind of combined the knowledge that I had of them, and some internet pictures, (woo) and whatever sounded fancy to me. SO DEAL WITH IT_

_xD_

_1) Despite the cost of living, why does it remain so popular? (xD Idk I thought it was funny...)_

_2) What do you want written on your tombstone when you die? (This reminds me of Dan...)_

_3) If you could be any mythological/magical beast, what would you be?_

_4) Who's your favorite Avenger, if you have one?_

_PLEASE REVIEW, MY DARLIN' LIL' ENCHILADAS._

_~Lovely_


	19. A Point of Regularity

_A/N_

_350+ reviews! *Confetti* -I'd like to thank the Academy! (...and the reviewers. No, but seriously. Thank you guys SO much. =) REVIEWS KEEP ME GOING. I MEAN IT, THEY REALLY DO.)_

_(So. If you reviewed, I'll be mailing you a gold medal, okay?)_

CHAPTER NINETEEN: A Point of Regularity

**-Ian Kabra-**

Ian Kabra was confused.

And to say he was just confused was an understatement. Because he had never, ever felt such a strong pull from so many different directions at one time. For some reason, from where he sat inside the smoothly-riding limousine, he felt as though there was no way to fill his lungs completely; his breathing was so heavy, yet air seemed to evade him.

And Amy Cahill was asleep on his shoulder, and he envied her- because, in sleep, she looked so peaceful.

Ian looked away from her, wishing she hadn't curled up against him. She was making things more... complicated. And it wasn't as if he needed that. Amy was turning out to be just another annoying block in his way. Or so he told himself she was... Ian couldn't resist another glance at her now, almost completely still besides the easy rise and fall of her chest in her breathing, which he also envied.

This trip was supposed to give him everything he wanted. But it all seemed too good to be true. For a long time, nothing had ever gone Ian's way. Not really. It didn't matter that he could have rolled around in a giant pile of money if he'd wanted to- not that he really would have, as that was absurd, it was just more of that fact that he _could_ if he'd wanted to- because he wasn't happy. It was ridiculous, in a way, but true. Money and gold ended up meaning absolutely nothing to Ian when he felt as if he'd lost so much.

His family. For years, he hadn't had one.

A surge of anxiety rolled in his stomach like a wave and his eyes fell on the divider, where, ever-presently, there was an outline that showed where Natalie Kabra sat, completely still at the moment. For a split second, Ian wished he was with her. He had decided so recently that he wanted to rebuild a..._structured_ relationship with Natalie, and he felt that if she'd been sitting with him instead of behind the divider, he now would have felt more at ease.

Ian heaved a labored sigh and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling of the limousine. The divider had been his idea- he'd seen the effect Natalie's confidence and somewhat..._demeaning_ composure had had on Amy Cahill when the two had first been introduced. He'd made sure the two wouldn't be seated together for the long car ride, but now he regretted that decision.

He thought that perhaps he should have felt triumphant now, rather than so confused. For it seemed he really _had_ gotten what he'd wanted. It was obvious that he'd gained Amy's trust- he suspected now or later she'd spill her secrets, one way or another. She did trust him, didn't she? Ian's gaze flitted towards her but he pulled it away again, and back towards the ceiling... Which honestly really wasn't very effective in helping him not think about her, because she was right beside him, her hand in his and her warm cheek pressing into the shoulder of the leather jacket he'd thrown on before leaving the mansion.

Ian felt his chest tighten further. In his head, he was at war- he was bouncing between his thoughts of is original plan, which was to use Amy Cahill for his own benefit, and an annoying new idea his mind was making up for him- forget the old plan entirely and stop pretending to be a good person. Rationally, the side of him fighting for the original plan was winning- but there was something annoyingly relentless about that other side of him.

He was trapped between the part of him that wanted to continue to believe that she was just some girl, inferior to him, and the part of him that knew she wasn't. She'd showed him that plenty of times already. She was different, somehow, had a different effect on him than other people did. She had some genuine kindness, despite her shyly secretive air, and that kindness confused Ian.

It was as if his world had always been black and white and for this reason he was almost scared of her, and also quite intrigued, because she always seemed to introduce him to new colors he'd never seen before.

Ian pushed his thoughts of Amy away from him, knowing he should be focusing on something else entirely.

No, maybe not something else entirely... because, Ian realized, dread creeping up his spine, everything was turning out to be tied and woven together. He'd intended to bring Amy along on this little _trip_ partly because he didn't want to leave her, and partly because he'd been certain it would help him learn the truth about her. But the more he read into things, the more they seemed to click into place. And it was looking as if Amy would not be standing by and watching- Ian had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that was telling him she'd need to do much more than just watch...

But this place. Where they were going. He hardly even knew where it was, just that it was at the very outskirts of the London city itself, and it was a ruin- some shambly old crumbled building that had long been forgotten by most people. Once, a scientific research facility. Now, old bricks and crumbled mortar in messily made piles. But not all people had forgotten- because beneath the place, those shoddy ruins... awaited something _very important_.

And it was vital that Ian and Natalie get there quickly.

Ian glanced at his watch, on the wrist that was currently not being... _held_ by Amy Cahill's hand. If his calculations were correct, there was only a short period of time to go before reaching their destination. It seemed he'd been wrapped up rather tightly in his thoughts, and in them, time had flown quickly. He stared at the gray backpack on the floor at his feet and he wondered darkly if there were enough supplies in it for this adventure...

It was all Vikram's idea.

Ian wondered seethingly if he'd been wrong to trust the man he'd once called his father. After all- despite this plan being his idea, the man was not accompanying them. He had other business elsewhere, so he'd said, with a grim smile. He'd assured Ian and Natalie that he would be contributing to their cause, but for now, he needed to be out of sight. Ian hardly believed him now. It was all just too good to be true...

Their cause. This mission. And Amy Cahill, who was turning out to be very important- all of these things, clicking into place... Ian didn't trust it. He was too wary of it all.

Because Vikram had told him and Natalie that they were going to destroy the last of the sancsylline.

After Ian had shaken Vikram's hand, the man had begun to spin a plan, a gleam in his eyes that said without words he had no doubts that it wouldn't fail. A plan to destroy Isabel's sancsylline... without it, she'd be 'normal' again. Or so his theory was. He'd stated that it was this serum that was deteriorating her. And she believed she needed it. Vikram was entirely hopeful that without it, the effects of it would negate, and she'd be back to Isabel Kabra she'd been many years ago.

"I'm expecting it to take time," Vikram had said. "But from what my sources tell me, Isabel seems to give herself the sancsylline serum once every month. If she missed her allotted time slot for dosage, my calculated guess is that her hostility and anger will immediately begin to decline until it reaches a point of regularity."

Ian could picture that. Isabel, at a point of 'regularity'.

Ian had grown up and he'd given up- given up the idea that Isabel was anything more than just his controlling boss who used him as a pawn for her fake charities. The idea that she could be changed now, back to what she'd been so long ago... it was entirely foreign. It didn't make any logical sense. But then again, neither did the sancsylline, which Ian had watched unwind time from Isabel Kabra's age.

Looking out the window, Ian suddenly felt exhausted. He'd been feeling much too tired lately, strained and drained. His life had been so robotic only a week ago, the same old routines... flying from America to London, where he'd assumed Isabel would have more meaningless tasks for him as he watched more and more light disappear from her eyes, to be replaced with a cold, unfeeling black.

Now he gritted his teeth. He would do this, this mission. He would try to save Isabel. If he could.

But then and there he made himself a promise- if all of this was a lie, a trick or a trap of some sort and he was fearing it would be... he'd not be disappointed. No, he would keep his wits about him, and he wouldn't allow himself to become disappointed. And he was doing it for Natalie, too. Because he knew how much she was yearning for the kind of Kabra family they'd once had. Ian stared out the window and he could feel an uncomfortable crick forming in his neck, but still he was motionless, watching the world fly by outside of the window. Stuck in his thoughts once more.

Finally he came to himself and shifted, wincing at moving his neck, which he'd kept so still.

When he moved, he was suddenly very aware, once more, that Amy was asleep and still very close to him. He stiffened, and she stirred in her sleep, a result of his sudden movement after so long spent like a statue; he held his breath, not wanting to face her if she woke up. Not now... he needed more time. To collect himself and his thoughts. She was so... different, and she made him feel different, too.

He was just supposed to use her.

But looking at her now, he felt like a disgrace, a deflated balloon... he was angry with himself in so many ways, but he was caught between being angry that he was lying to her, and being angry that he was angry about that.

A pit of confusion in his stomach that just kept growing.

For the time being, Ian decided he needed to stop thinking. For once. His brain was on overload. With great effort, he relaxed, his jaw slackening and his muscles no longer clenched in stress. If he was to go through with this mission, finding and destroying the sancsylline with Natalie, and taking Amy along with him... well, then. He'd need to be cool and collected and not a mess. At least, he could_ look_ like a mess. He hated being a mess, but as long as he didn't let it show, he'd be fine.

So Ian relaxed, feeling Amy close to him, her hand still in his, and he closed his eyes, focusing on eradicating his stress. Which he was only mildly successful at...

Ian silently hoped with all of his being that more for Natalie's sake than his own, this trip wasn't a lie or a trick.

_A/N_

_Didja like it? I hope so lol._

_The adventure stuff is coming soon. As soon as they get where they're going... Now. Questions!_

_1) What's your favorite kind of cereal?_

_2) Sparkle or shine? xD xD_

_3) What are you wearing right now?_

_4) Would you rather ask someone out or be asked out?_

_Please review, and if you could tell me parts you did/did not like, or any other notes you might have, I'd appreciate it a lot. Have a great day!_

_~Lovely_


	20. The Ruins

_A/N_

_*Waving* Hello, guys!_

_I have an _**important announcement**_, and I would really appreciate it if you read the following:_

_News: _

_I've been hired to work at a camp this summer, and I'll pretty much be living there for 6 days out of 7 in the week. That being said, that's most of summer that I'm working, so update patterns might change...? I still don't know exactly how that's going to go. _

_But I just wanted to let you all know that if update is slow, it's not because I'm giving up- it's because I'm busy. But I love this story, and I really love all of you. So I'm honestly going to do what I can to be able to update on Sundays in the summer. No promises, but if I can make that happen, then I'll have a regular enough update pattern- updates on Sundays._

_Thank you all so, so, SO much for the support and kind words. It truly means a lot to me and makes me happy._

CHAPTER TWENTY: The Ruins

**~Amy Cahill~**

When Amy woke up, it was pitch black.

Her head felt like it was stuffed and her neck hurt. In a sudden alarm, she realized that she was alone. Where was she? Where was Ian?

And then she remembered- she was in Ian's limousine. When they'd left the Kabra estate that morning, it had been completely light, not yet even noon. Amy thought this with a shiver. It was surely nighttime now. How could she possibly have slept so long...? A sudden chill at the back of her neck made her shiver, and then sneeze- Oh, yes, she thought. I'm sick.

Uneasily, she brushed off the fact that she'd slept so long, quietly telling herself it was because she was ill. Plus, she thought, I didn't have the best night sleep last night, either... She needed to focus on learning where the extravagant car had stopped- it didn't seem to be moving, but then, Amy's head felt like it was spinning, so she wasn't entirely sure- and where Ian had gone. And Natalie, too.

Amy unbuckled her seat belt, wincing and rubbing her neck. With a blush creeping across her cheeks she realized that her neck felt so stiff because she'd fallen asleep for who knew how long with her head against Ian's shoulder.

Doing her best to ignore her own embarrassment, Amy grabbed the dark green backpack Ian had given her earlier in the day. Her eyes were just beginning to adjust to the dark, and she could see outlines and faint colors but Amy couldn't see past the shaded divider. Was the driver of the vehicle still present...? She'd have to get out to check. To make sure she wasn't alone. Taking a deep breath and telling herself not to be silly and panic over being alone, she opened the door to the limousine and climbed out into the night.

The moon shone brilliantly, and Amy was standing on grass, slicked back and wet from the earlier rain. The sky was now magnificently clear, big stars twinkling brightly above, and the moon, close to being full, casting beams of light down to earth.

Amy squinted, trying to see around, to see if she could see buildings, or people, or anything, really.

She felt uneasy at this setup. She'd allowed Ian to take her somewhere without knowing the location, but that certainly felt like a mistake now. He was nowhere in sight...

And then Amy saw the ruins.

Her eyes widened in surprise as they took in the shape of half a building in the middle of nowhere, a crumbled waste. Amy walked carefully in the grass towards the ruined building, pausing to look back to the front of the limousine. It was empty. Amy shivered again. Even the driver had disappeared into this cold night.

Without knowing what else to do, a terribly confused Amy made for the ruin-of-a-building, wishing for a flashlight even as the moon shone down brightly. It wasn't bright enough. Amy felt alone, as if the shadows around her would come to life and swallow her whole. Trying not to slip on the damp grass, Amy hurried towards the ruin, fighting the rising panic in her chest. She was alone, and she didn't know why, with only an overstuffed backpack to keep her company. A fence- or what looked to have once been a fence- appeared half-bulldozed down, surrounding the premises of the building. Amy swung a leg over the crumpled wire in one of the spots where it was the flattest and lowest.

Just as she'd scrambled to the other side, a beam of light shone out into the darkness, making her freeze in place.

Amy could just see the outline of the owner of the light- a flashlight, she now assumed- standing a few yards away. Amy realized, her heart pounding harshly and then relaxing a little bit, that it was Natalie Kabra.

"Thank goodness," Amy called quietly. Her voice sounded jittery and it would have felt wrong to speak more loudly, as if she could break the quiet sound of night. "It's me!" Amy said. Natalie was motionless, staring at her. "W-where are we?" Amy called. She tried to step forward, but the leg of her jeans caught on the wire fence. "I'm stuck," she whisper-yelled. Wincing, Amy twisted her leg, pulling it free. When she looked up, Natalie had disappeared, making Amy's panic rise once more. She just left! Amy thought, silently fuming along with her anxiousness.

No, there- she could see a bobbing beam of light inside of the ruin, through a half-broken window.

Nervously, Amy scouted a few feet for a door or some kind of entrance way.

She found a doorway with a half-attached door, thinking that Natalie must have gone inside from there. Nervously, Amy peeked inside around the door just hanging by one hinge, but she couldn't see anything besides moonbeams shining through cracks and holes of the destroyed building. Amy shuddered to think of what it had once been. It was just too creepy- a crumbled metal building in the middle of nowhere. But Amy stepped inside anyway. She pushed aside thoughts of the building being unstable. She didn't want to be alone. Besides, it had to be safe, because Natalie had gone inside. Right?

Summoning up her bravery, she squinted in the dark, trying not to bump into anything. There were heaps of junk scattered about, and Amy could make out enough shapes not to completely run into anything, but she did stub her toes a few times.

And then, finally, she saw the light of a flashlight again.

"Hello?" Amy called out, and realized she saw more than one flashlight beam. Hope rose in her chest. It was Ian and Natalie. It had to be. She hurried forward, silently praying it was them. Amy opened her mouth to call out again but she tripped on something in the dark, flying forward a few feet and hitting someone smack-dab in the chest. That someone let out a very audible "Oof" noise on impact.

Amy scrambled back, realizing it was Ian, and she flattened him to the floor. "S-sorry!" Amy squeaked. "I'm sorry!" But relief welled up in her chest nonetheless, because she'd found Ian. His flashlight had rolled a few feet away and Amy scurried and bent to pick it up, shining it on the second person, who she figured to be Natalie. She was right, and resent tugged at Amy's stomach. Natalie had left her with her foot stuck in a fence. She'd gotten it out, but still... Amy bit back a comment on that subject. Maybe she'd say something later, but for now, it wasn't worth it.

Natalie gazed at her with obvious dislike in her amber eyes.

Shining the light on Ian, Amy offered him a hand to help him up, wincing at the fact that she'd knocked him over. Ian glanced at her outstretched hand and ignored it, picking himself up and brushing his shirt off.

"Amy," he greeted, somewhat coldly. It seemed he didn't like being knocked over onto a cold floor covered in rusty miscellaneous objects. "I see you've found us." He gestured to Natalie, and held out his hand. Amy realized after a passed second or two that he wanted his flashlight back. She hurried to return it. Amy tried to push down her discomfort, telling herself she'd be fine now that she'd found Ian. And he would tell her where they were, and what they were doing there in the middle of the night...

"Are you okay?" Amy asked, feeling guilty. Hopefully Ian hadn't fallen on anything and gotten hurt.

He sighed, and from the beam of Natalie's flashlight, focused near Ian's face, she could see that, thank goodness, he didn't look very mad (or hurt). "I'm fine." He said.

With that having been assured, Amy blurted out, "Where are we?" She desperately wanted to know, now. And the place was still creepy, even though now she was with Ian and Natalie.

"The ruins of an old building." Said Ian rather casually, his voice light enough. Amy frowned.

"Care to elaborate on that?" She glanced around. "And... why are we here?" She felt herself blushing and was glad it was dark. "Er... how is this a surprise?" Amy could see Natalie's beautifully cold face from Ian's flashlight. The younger girl grinned, as if amused by the fact that Amy was calling this a surprise. Defensiveness kicked in. "You_ did_ say this was a surprise...?" She asked Ian, not taking her eyes off of Natalie and her knowing smile.

Ian's eyes flashed in the dim light. "Yes. And it was a surprise because it's exciting," he said calmly. "You do like adventures, don't you, Amy?" The tone of his voice made her uncomfortable. A part of her wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him because she was glad she wasn't alone, as she had been when she'd woken up, but he sounded so... serious. It didn't seem like this was a game or a surprise. How could a trip to a rusty, falling-apart building be an adventure? "Come with me," Ian said suddenly, turning away and beckoning with his hand free of the flashlight. "Natalie, you keep looking."

Amy wanted to ask what Ian was telling Natalie to look for, but he gently pushed her towards the left of the building, where a gaping hole in the wall was providing some moonlight. She stepped towards the hole and saw Natalie grab Ian's shoulder from the corner of her eye.

"I thought you said she'd be asleep for another hour?" Natalie hissed. "We haven't found it yet!" The words made Amy's blood run cold. What did she mean about the sleeping? And what _were_ they looking for?

Ian said something quietly in response, something that Amy missed entirely. Heart pounding, feeling nervous, Amy pressed herself against a more solid part of the wall, trying to feel safe in her little patch of moonlight. Ian stepped in beside her, his back resting against the wall as hers did, breeze from the hole in the wall- which began right about at Ian's chin, and the top of Amy's head- ruffling his dark hair.

"What's going on?" Amy whispered. She couldn't see Natalie anymore, but she wondered if the younger girl was lurking in the shadows, eavesdropping instead of 'looking'.

Ian smiled slightly, which made Amy feel more at ease, but she still thought she saw a serious underlining to the upturned corners of his mouth. "I told you," he said calmly, and Amy closed her eyes while she listened to him. She suddenly felt quite dizzy. Why did she feel so dizzy? "I discovered this place a year ago. It's definitely interesting. I thought I'd show you."

Amy was quietly flattered. She smiled. "Really? That's it? You wanted to show me this place? Because you thought I'd like it?" She opened her eyes.

Ian nodded. "Well, yes." He leaned in slightly towards Amy. "What else would it be?"

Looking into his amber eyes, Amy easily became enchanted, all of her mind-walls, put up for her own protection, and others' protection, crumbled down like the old building they were inside of. Amy relaxed, feeling a bit sheepish for being so jumpy and scared. It was just dark, that was all. Amy imagined that this was the kind of thing Dan would love to do, if he'd been there. _Adventuring_ in dark and scary places. Amy told herself to suck it up. Have fun, she told herself. For Dan. He would think you were being ridiculous.

"Just one more question." Amy said carefully. "Why the backpacks? And, uhm, why the secrecy- and why didn't you wake me up?" Amy's stomach churned. She couldn't help but add, "You left me in the limousine."

Ian smirked at her babbling. "That was three questions, but I'll answer them. Secrecy, for starters, is the only way to keep something a _surprise_, Amy." He rolled his eyes. "I would think you would know that...?" Amy would have interjected with 'Yes, but why is it a surprise', but Ian rolled on. "The backpacks are in case we need to stay a few days. To... explore. And I left you in the limousine because you're not feeling well." Amy was surprised when she felt the tips of his warm fingers gently touching the sides of her face. "I wanted to let you rest a bit more." He inched closer, his voice hardly above a whisper now. "Do you feel any better?"

It suddenly felt as if with every little bit of space that disappeared between them, Amy's dizziness was returning- and growing. She was avoiding his distracting eyes, and if the wall hadn't been there, she thought she might have fallen backwards. Amy squeezed her eyes shut, and the last thing she saw was Ian's distracted eyes on her lips.

Amy stumbled back and gasped. "I f-feel really dizzy, Ian. I d-don't know why."

Amy's eyes were still closed, but she could practically hear the blank frown in Ian's voice. "Here, let me help you." Ian picked up one of Amy's arms and rested it around his own neck. "Lean on me." Ian instructed curtly. "I'm taking you back to the limousine."

Without responding, Amy followed Ian's guiding arm around her waist, her eyes hardly even open. The sudden dizziness would have worried her, but it was as if her thoughts were shutting down. Amy heard Ian call to Natalie and tell her he was going to the limousine. Ian bumped into something in the dim light and cursed. And then Amy realized what was happening to her- she was falling asleep. But she didn't want to sleep. Frantically she opened her eyes, but her eyelids pulled themselves shut again.

Ian reached the car and opened it, helping Amy in. Amy slumped over in her seat.

"What's wrong with me?" Amy mumbled.

Ian gazed at Amy for a moment, and then brushed the hair out of her face. "You'll be fine," Ian murmured his promise, and Amy hoped, in the back of her mind, that she could trust him on that.

Amy saw Natalie join Ian outside of the car, and then her eyes slipped shut again, and sleep dragged her down. But just before it did, Amy heard Ian's deep voice telling Natalie,

"There. She managed to wake up for a bit before, but the sleep serum is working again. She'll be out for a few more hours, at least."

_A/N_

_Remember, y'all. Review, and you'll have exceptionally good luck today! *Eyebrow wiggle* Also, if you didn't read it, READ THE NEWS IN THE TOP A/N- IT'S ABOUT UPDATES!_

_Thanks, reviewers!_

_1) What's your favorite amusement park ride?_

_2) What's your favorite pattern? (Ex; plaid, zebra stripes...)_

_3) What was the last thing you ate?_

_4) Do you like zombie movies?_

_~Lovely_


	21. Defying Orders

_A/N_

_Hello, my dear darling loves._

_I AM alive, in case you were wondering, and I have in _**no way**_ forgotten you or this story or this website. As I've explained before, I'm merely at camp (where I work) a LOT. So I genuinely appreciate those of you still hanging around to read this. Because I enjoy writing it, and I've been missing it tons. I hope you'll keep going with this story, because your support means a truckload of chuzz to me._

_Hope you like the chapter!_

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Defying Orders

**-Ian Kabra-**

"Ian. This is your father. Please answer me at once."

Ian awoke to the voice mail on his phone, and he winced slightly when he opened his eyes. He was tired down to his very bones, but nevertheless, he hurried to answer the call. Ian disliked Vikram- even hated him, in some ways- but he was smart enough to know not to play around with the man who had once been his father. "Hello?" Ian answered.

Vikram's voice was serious on the other end of the line. "Did you find the doorway in?"

Ian bristled at the doubt he detected in Vikram's voice. Did the elder Kabra think the younger was that incompetent? "Yes," he whisper-hissed. He glanced to his left, and a few car seats away, Amy Cahill was as still as a dead person. Last night, Amy had managed to wake up from Natalie's sleep poison- an odd occurrence- and when she'd been pulled down once more into sleep, Natalie had insisted Ian give her another dosage so that she didn't wake up in the night and 'whine about headaches.'

Ian doubted Amy would be the type to whine, but to make Natalie shut up, he'd done it. Besides... she had a point. If they'd allowed Amy to be awake, she probably wouldn't have fallen back to sleep. She'd slept most of the day before, and her sleep schedule would be way off. He wondered if giving her more sleep poison had bettered or worsened that fact.

After bringing Amy to the limousine, he'd pricked her neck with Natalie's poison-sleep-serum- "A gift from Vikram," she'd told him with a shrug that had made him frown- he and Natalie had returned to the inside of the ruined building to look for the doorway. They'd found it, but it had taken until 3 AM to do so- it was well hidden among the wreckage and therefore hadn't been easy to find.

But finding the doorway was just the beginning. Because, if what Vikram had told Ian and Natalie was true, beyond the doorway could be the last thus-far discovered source of Sancsylline in the world.

And if it was, Ian was going to destroy it.

Vikram's voice over the phone brought Ian back to the present. The older man sounded slightly impressed when he spoke. "That was quick, Ian." Yes, of course he and Natalie had found the door quickly... Ian dug his fingernails into the palm of his left hand, trying to tell himself he didn't feel anything over the impressed tone in Vikram's voice. No, Ian thought. I don't _need_ to impress him. He didn't owe Vikram anything- not even the tinniest particle of dust. Ian was doing this, more than anything, for Natalie- because if Isabel could be saved, his sister would want her to be. He told himself that he no longer cared. This was all for Natalie. "Did you send away your driver?"

Ian sighed again. His father really must think him stupid. Of course he'd sent another car to pick up the driver- he didn't want his location well known or broadcasted. Hopefully, Isabel was busy and hadn't yet noticed the absence of her only two children and their guest. "Yes, I did." Ian glanced at Amy again, disgusted to find himself slightly unnerved by her limp form. He watched to make sure her chest was rising and falling steadily, and when he was sure it was, he turned away again.

"Good." Vikram's smooth voice was approving. "Now- I'd like you to leave, Ian."

Ian's mouth, already in a frown (more from the fact that it just always was than anything else), curved more deeply downwards. "What?" He spat, disliking this turn of events. They- he, Natalie and Vikram- had discussed it; the plan had been to find the entrance to where the sancsylline was hidden, retrieve it and destroy it. Ian didn't consider 'leaving' an option, and it was hard enough to trust Vikram. Ian didn't like him turning tables after they'd agreed on their plan of action.

"Leave," Vikram said calmly. "I'm sorry, Ian, but I've thought it over, and I just don't think it's safe." There was a pause, and then Vikram continued. "My scouts reported high ratings of the rare metal where you are, but they couldn't find the entrance. That being said..." Vikram paused once more, and when he spoke again, his voice was serious and a bit more gravelly than usual. "You and Natalie were clever to find the door, but we have no idea what's down there. My calculated assumption is that someone hid the sancsylline there, and if they've hidden it, it might be under protection of some sort. Other natural traces of sancsylline- all in places Isabel has now drained completely- were found on the other side of England."

Ian felt blood rising to his face out of sheer anger. He hated games. He hated his father. He was mildly surprised to hear Vikram suggest that someone had hidden the sancsylline (so that this location would be an unnatural source for the liquid), but he was too angry to care about it presently. He disliked this turn of events and he disliked his father announcing to Ian that he was too much of a child to handle whatever he might encounter while trying to receive the sancsylline.

"Our _safety_?" Ian hissed. "Since when have you cared about that? Just because you're supposedly my _father_ doesn't give you the right to dictate decisions based on_ that_." Ian stared out the window. He took a deep breath- in, and then out. "Natalie and I found the entrance," he said, "and we're going in." He concluded his words simply and hung up.

He decided not to tell Natalie and Amy what Vikram had said.

From the corner of his eye, Ian saw Amy's figure stirring- no longer looking so dead. Ian tensed, feeling strange to see her in such a state. Amy's eyes fluttered open and immediately her fingers moved to her temple, a wince escaping through her light pink lips. She'll have an awful headache, Ian thought grimly. Just as Natalie promised she would. And now it'd be doubly so.

For a moment, Ian's brain made him flashback to the night before, inside of the ruins. That moment he'd nearly stolen with Amy Cahill. If it hadn't been from sleeping-serum-induced nausea, he would have gotten to kiss her, and he wasn't sure how that made him feel. As much as he was using her, there was something about her that made him stop in his tracks, made him stop to think- to evaluate the decisions he was making. Amy sat up and he saw her green eyes flashing attentively, even in her current state, which he imaged would feel horrible. (The headache side effect; because Amy's body and mind had been forced into sleep two times in a row.)

"Good morning," Ian stated shortly. Amy gave him a small smile, but her fingers were still curled around her temple, hair hanging down into her green eyes. She looked so tired, and her clothes were wrinkled from all of her sleeping. Ian felt a lump rising in his throat. Sunlight was pouring into the limousine through the window, illuminating Amy's hair and making it seem more red than usual. She looked rather... pretty.

Ian pushed that thought away. When had he allowed himself to become so distracted? He, more than anyone, should know the need of getting the mission underway...

"Good morning," Amy yawned and said back to him. Ian avoided her eyes, staring sharply at the space above her left shoulder.

"We need to go quickly," Ian said, keeping his voice level and calm. A slightly paranoid thought had popped into his head. What if Vikram sent someone after him? Ian had been so quick to defy him, and now he thought that stupid. If he'd been more careful, he could have bought himself and Natalie some time, and convinced Vikram that he was indeed coming back to the Kabra estate. He pushed those thoughts away. They wouldn't help him now. "There's something I'd like you to see," he said to Amy.

Ian slipped out of the car quickly, his eyes flickering back to make sure Amy was following. She was, and now that she was fully in the sun, she didn't look very... healthy. It alarmed Ian to see such dark circles under her eyes. Just an after effect of the sleeping poison, he told himself briskly. She'll be absolutely fine.

Ian led Amy into the old ruins, ducking under an old, partially collapsed shelf and weaving around various other debris.

Natalie was waiting for them by the hidden door.

She tapped her fingers impatiently against her leg, a light scowl settled across her pretty features. The scowl lessened some when she saw Ian, though. Ian noted that again she was wearing white- he deemed her favorite color rather ridiculous in such settings. Didn't his sister know that she would invariably get dirty down below the ruins?

Well, maybe not. They hadn't a clue about what was down there.

Three backpacks sat beside Natalie's fashionably-shoed feet. Ian knew there was a backpack for each of them, stocked with food, water, and other supplies. Taking a deep breath and pushing away the last traces of thoughts about Vikram, Ian scooped up two backpacks, roughly shoving one at Amy. "Take that," he muttered. He turned to Natalie. "We need to go. Now."

Natalie frowned. "As if I don't know that, dear brother. I've clearly been waiting here." No, Ian thought. She doesn't know- doesn't know that Vikram is trying to hold us back. But Ian said none of that aloud, and instead nodded towards Natalie and the door so that she knew to get on with it. And get on with it she did.

Behind Natalie, the wall, and part of the floor, was covered with an iron grate. Yesterday it had been disguised, hidden among the wreckage. Ian and Natalie (mostly Ian) had dragged the heavy garbage away, leaving the grate uncovered. With a few sparks from a miniature flamer and some rope, Ian had dislocated the heavy grate. For precautionary reasons, Ian hadn't gone down after he'd removed the grate, which had exposed a long, black tunnel. He'd waited, leaving the grate where it was.

But now it was time for action. Ian found the rope pulls he'd tied on the night before, and with strains of effort, began to move the metal grate. Amy was quiet and still throughout the entire process, a nervous and questioning look on her face. She played with the hem of her t-shirt. Natalie merely watched her brother exert himself.

When it was finally off, Ian called to Natalie. "Flashlight?"

There was sun peeking into the ruins, and some of it slipped down into the tunnel-hole, but not near enough. It was still a black drop of who knew how many feet down. Ian stepped back, breathing hard from his efforts, catching his breath while Natalie fished to find a flashlight in her backpack. A moment passed and she located one, pulling it out and switching it on.

The light beam directed downward betrayed the fact that the hole was not very deep at all- maybe nine or ten feet down, a straight plunge, before it seemed to level off and continue in a flatter way (though still going slightly down).

This was it.

Ian's skin was crawling. If he went down that tunnel, he'd officially begin the mission he'd discussed with Natalie. Finding and destroying the last of the known sancsylline in the world... If there was any chance of saving Isabel, this was the way to start doing just that. Ian's eyes drifted to Natalie, who was staring at the hole with wide eyes. She's having similar thoughts, Ian thought to himself. But beyond just that Ian knew that Natalie was very hopeful for the chance to save her mother.

Ian had turned his back on Isabel long ago, but he'd made a vow not to turn on Natalie.

In just a moment, he would go down. They all would. But first, he had to do one last thing. To ensure that it would indeed be_ all_ of them.

Ian stepped towards Amy, who had a glazed look across her features. He was alarmed by it. She looked so... ill. Perhaps it would not be wise to take her down the tunnel? No, Ian thought, a strange sense of an iron resolve overcoming him. He'd come so far with her. He wouldn't let her go. Not for anything. He still had a burning desire to know her and who she was, and he couldn't get the idea out of his head that she'd somehow be quite useful in whatever he and Natalie might encounter while searching for the sancsylline.

"Amy?" Ian said gently. He glanced at Natalie, but she was still deep in thought, staring down the hole. Ian touched Amy's arm lightly. "There is..." he hesitated. "A lot I haven't told you." Amy's gaze sharpened somewhat, but she still looked slightly distant. She waited for him to go on. "But you need to trust me. I know I said I brought you here to show you something, but we're here for a very different reason." Ian was surprised at how honest he was being. He could feel some tension leaving his shoulders. It felt surprisingly good not to lie quite so much. "I'll tell it all to you in due time, if you'll come with me."

Oh, so there it was. The lie.

Amy searched Ian's gaze with her own, and he saw her emotions there. Curiosity, maybe a little mistrust. Fear. And then finally, loyalty. Trust. She trusts me, Ian thought, his jaw tightening.

Amy nodded slowly, and a tiny smile played across her lips. Though, to Ian's surprise, it was slightly unhappy. "This isn't normal at all, is it?"

Ian didn't quite know what she was referring to, but he just nodded. It wasn't normal. Other people didn't do things like this.

Ian thought of the past days he'd had, getting to know parts of Amy. She was still a puzzle that he had to piece together, but he felt tied to her. The idea of letting her go or losing her was unbearable. They were tethered. For the first time, Ian thought that maybe Amy felt the same way about him. Maybe she could see past all the fake niceness he'd been directing towards him...? For a moment, he almost shivered under her incessantly green stare. But he caught himself just in time. Don't be stupid, he thought.

Looking at Amy, Ian thought she looked tired and weary down to her very bones, a combo of drug after-effect and the common cold she had. But she was nodding, just nodding, like she'd go along with it. She knew that whatever this was, she'd been dragged into it and she was going to go right along without too much of a fight. She trusted him, clear as sunlight. He'd been waiting for her to trust him, when all he'd ever done was lie to her.

She trusted him.

Ian squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, his thoughts becoming much too muddled. When he opened his eyes, forcing away many of his thoughts, Amy and Natalie stood waiting, clear outlines in the beams of light shining through the ruins.

Against Vikram Kabra's wishes, they would be on their way now, down the hole.

_A/N_

_Thank you so, so, so much if you read this update. You win a free sparkly whale sticker, and a pot of homemade soap._

_1) What is your favorite salad dressing?_

_2) Would you rather be: a spy, a ninja, a pirate or a dinosaur?_

_3) Which would you rather be: a werewolf or a vampire?_

_4) What would you do for a million dollars?_

_Please review, my beautiful lil' pears. I'll be waiting to write for you again! *waves*_

_~Lovely_


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